Finnick and Annie: Contained, Book 3
by finnickandannieforever
Summary: Finnick thought he had fought for her. He thought he had won... but, he was wrong. The story of Annie's games. The final book to the Finnick and Annie series. Rated T because it is Hunger Games. Suzzane Collins owns The Hunger Games and the characters within.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Before the Pain

Finnick Odair's P.O.V

It has been about 5 years since my win. 5 years since the explosion, 5 years since the graves were dug up, 5 years since my hurt begun. It has been a particularly painful 5 years. I don't feel like the Finnick Odair that my father would be proud of nor the Finnick Odair that my mother would kiss on the forehead. No. I am not that boy anymore. He was someone who was blinded by only what was in front of him. I am someone who knows what is underneath and the dangers that come along with it.

It has only been 3 years since my clientele started pouring in. Women from the Capitol begging at my feet for just a few moments. Of course the piles and piles of cash in their hand would go to President Snow. I'm glad he gets it to be honest…I don't like dirty money. I have to pretend like I am focused on just them and working for only their pleasure. I feel like a used rag, disgusting and disposable. Sometimes I feel like life isn't worth living.

But then, I see those eyes.

Annie Cresta; the only thing making my life worth living. I guess I have to include Mags too. Without them, I would be crumpled up like a piece of paper in the corner of the room, never unfolding again. If I lost her, as I did with my parents, I don't know where I would be, what I would do, anything. So that is why I make President Snow happy; so that Annie can live. He has threatened me, blackmailed me, with her life. I promised I would always protect her so I do what he says. If I don't… there is nothing I can do to save her.

We haven't been following the rules exactly, but no one has noticed. President Snow doesn't want us to be together anymore. Like that's going to happen. So through the years we have developed a secret way for us to be together and to see each other without the President noticing. Once a month, when I am not at the Capitol, Annie and I secretly trail off to Mags' house to be together in peace. That one moment is when the torture, the pain, and the hopelessness all melt away. That moment when I feel her heart beat against mine is when I know I am doing the right thing. But then, as soon as our fragile time has wrapped up, I go back to pain.

Mentoring has been hard. I have watched 9 innocent children die that I had come to appreciate and only one win. It's torture. I understand better than anyone now why that drunk mentor from twelve has drowned his sorrows away with alcohol. I think of doing the same every once in a while, but I know it will make Annie ashamed. So of course, I have to act like I enjoy the Games and slap on a smile every time a camera turns on. It's all for Annie though, so I follow along. But even she can't help the fact that I have piercing nightmares about bloody swords, friends dying, and mutts clawing at my vision. Those, no one can keep away. They are here to stay.

Annie let someone else buy the store off of her hands. I guess it became too much of a hassle. But she still works there, and it is getting a lot of business since it sponsored "The Famous Finnick Odair." That's the new me. I fear him taking over, but I never let it happen.

It has felt like the coldest winters, the harshest springs, the dreariest summers, and the most painful autumns since the explosion. The odds have kept Annie out of the Games, which I couldn't be happier with, and this is the last year she has. One more heart aching moment of the reaping, and the wondering of which name would get pulled. Hopefully, the odds will stick with us and let her slide under the radar for one more year, but this time is different. This time, the odds may come into President Snow's hands, and it is all my fault.

I have broken a rule.

It was last winter. It was cold, wet , and nose freezing weather. I hadn't seen Annie in weeks; the Capitol loves their Victors in the winter. I was anxious to give her the Christmas present I had chosen for her, and wanted to see the smile I work so hard for. I had thought that the train tracks across Panem would be frozen and too slippery to travel with, so there would be no chance that President Snow would steal me away. I thought I had all the time in the world with my beloved Annie. I was wrong. The Day of Christmas Eve came around, my heart aching to see her, when they arrived. The Peacekeepers bombarded their snowy boots into my house and demanded I be sent to the Capitol as someone's "present." I don't know how or why I dared to, but I refused. I exchanged a few words, kicked them off of my land, and hadn't heard of them. I thought that no one would dare do anything against "The Famous Finnick Odair", but I was wrong again. Well, not fully. They didn't do anything against _me_, but the President himself sent me a letter suggesting he might hurt someone else.

_Dear Finnick, _

_ It has been a long time, hasn't it? I guess the cold of the winter didn't give us much of a chance to talk. I apologize. But Finnick, there is something else completely that I would like to bring up. My granddaughter loves you, as the rest of the Capitol ladies do, and nothing would have brightened up her Christmas better than to have you show up at our door. That didn't happen, did it? No. No, it didn't. So I had to console her with words of kindness before the tears stopped flowing and told her you had refused. This made me angry, Finnick. But, I know you hadn't done anything on purpose, correct? You just wanted to spend time with you parents. Oh, I'm sorry, your 'Mags'. I would just like you to make up for it somehow. If I have to force you, I will, but please…I don't like blood on my gloves. _

_~President Snow_

_P.S: How is that darling Annie that you fancied 5 years ago? I would hate for you to never hear from her again. The loss of a loved one is so incredibly painful. Especially when you have to watch. _

I read that note over and over again. I practically memorized the thing. So now, here I am, on a humid reaping day, that has me not sweating of the weather, but sweating of fear. My dearest Annie has only one year until safety. One year until she is 19, and out of the grasp of the Games. One year left. And as I open up the door to a panicked District 4, I realized I might have taken that away from her. But I will always fight for her, even if she isn't in arms reach.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hi my fabulous amazing readers! I know, I haven't written in a month or so. I have had this case of writer's block that I couldn't shake off until now. Please forgive me. Here it is! Chapter 1! Hope ya'll like it! **

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Chapter 1- The Reaping

Annie's P.O.V

I'll be fine. I'll be okay. There are thousands of slips of paper in that bowl. To pick 1 of my 18 slips would be impossible, right? One more year, and the Capitol can't hold this cruel event against me. One more year, and Finnick can stop worrying.

I miss him, my Finnick. There are times when I can barely remember his face or the exact color of his eyes. Those times scare me. Through the years, I have to admit, I have given up on us from time to time. It was torture for both of us and I don't like to see him get hurt. I figured that ending us would end the pain. But as soon as I see the smile that no one else gets to see, I swear to never give up again. Finnick's smiles have been seen everywhere by everyone, but there is one smile he saves for me. It's the one that makes his eyes smile too. I can see his bright sea green eyes glitter as his face lights up. Only I get to see it, and it makes me try.

But today is different. Today is Reaping and the last thing I want to do is go down to the square and pretend as if it is a holiday. Not all of District 4 is fooled of the disgusting Capitol event, but there is enough to make you feel like an outcast when you don't cheer for the blood to start pouring. That's when most people start staring at you.

As scheduled, Mags has already left for the Mentor Meeting beforehand, as is Finnick. So there is no chance of parting words before the Reaping starts. The note she left for me is also as planned. Simple calming words overlapped with possible loving goodbyes. I hate goodbyes.

I slip on the same white dress I have worn to Reaping Day since I was 13. White lace, stops at the knee, pearl belt around the waist. Mags let me have it. Though sometimes I look at it and it reminds of the day Finnick got chosen. It reminds me of the times where I had to sit and stare at him helplessly through a television screen and only pray he wouldn't get hurt.

I bite my lip as I slip the painful dress on and comb through my strangled brown hair. That is the extent of the favor I choose to do for the Capitol; put on a pretty dress and slip a comb through my hair. I feel like a doll they plan to play with if I do more.

Finnick has been put through a lot of pain. I can see it. The way he has to force a smile to make it seem like he's okay just makes it worse. He shouldn't have to sacrifice anything for me, but President Snow made it as such. The painful part is that I can't do anything about it. The only thing I have been able to do for Finnick since his Game was just sit there and be quiet.

What I don't understand is that he can do something. President Snow has blinded him into thinking that he holds no power when in reality, Finnick holds the entire population of the Capitol in his hands. Just one slip of his many secrets coming out of Finnick's mouth can turn the entire country of Panem over to war against President Snow. But for some reason, Finnick has no idea he can.

I open the large door to face the Victor's Village. The place is stranded due to the "holiday" today. I straighten my dress and let my eyes shift to the brightness of District 4. Nothing has been the same to me since Finnick won. Now, I loved it when Finnick won. I rejoiced and cried tears of joy for hours, but this place hasn't been the same. The houses down the street don't ring with the same happiness they used to and the Reaping Square is even more haunting. The people still smile at me as I walk past, but the smiles they give aren't to please my day, they are just hiding their pity for me.

_Choooo_. The familiar sound jolts me from my day dream. It's the horn used to beckon innocent young children to their death. And of course, I blindly walk into the trap. I have no choice.

I walk slowly to the square. It's decorated same as usual; seashells and sand border the outline of the stage, the Capitol logo stamped and painted behind the podium, large screens taking up both the left and right view, and cameras at every inch to make sure nobody misses a thing and that everyone sees your torture.

"There you are!" Idelia, my best and only friend, says while blocking my view of the stage. Thankfully, she has been there for me quite a bit. Without her or Mags, the withdrawal of Finnick could drive me insane…

"Sorry, have you been looking for me?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I have. I can't believe it's our last year here." She says, her eyes darting every which way as we settle into the 18 year-old line.

"We're going to be alright," I say, nodding.

She nods with me and adds, "I hope so."

"Name," The peacekeeper woman demands as we hit the front of the line.

"Annabeth Cresta," I say in monotone.

The woman firmly grabs my hand and pricks it with the needle. She forces my bloody fingerprint down.

"Go on."

I walk over to the back of the crowd, mind buzzing with nerves. It takes all of my effort to not faint as I manage to sit down. I glare at the Reaping bowl in the center of the stage. In it holds 18 slips with Annabeth Cresta written on it. 18 slips out of thousands. How could it possibly be me this year?

"Who do you think it could be?" Idelia asks as she takes her seat next to mine.

I shrug, "It could be anybody I suppose."

She nods with a frown. "Word has it that Demere has over 15 slips in the bowl this year."

I look to my left and find him, Demere; the boy that sacrificed everything. His mother and father both passed away shortly after his fifth sibling was born. He took care of them and fed them with a short paid job at the shoe store. I could have never done that; I couldn't have raised a family and kept money coming. I admire him not for his looks, but for his strength.

"Good news though; Finnick Odair will be mentoring this year," she says with a smile.

All of District 4 has somehow managed to fall in love with him. I have done it too, but in a different way. I don't drool at his feet when he takes off a scrap of clothing nor do I wait in a line to be with him. I don't have to. He is more than that to me. He is more of a person, not an object, to me. I guess that is why he and I still try; because our love is different.

"Well then, the female tribute will be quite lucky," I say with a half-smile.

Idelia laughs, "And the male too."

I roll my eyes with a smile and turn my attention to the reaping bowl. This will be my last year at the Reaping. For six whole years, Finnick and I have managed to keep me from having to go into the arena. That dreadful place has scarred Fin in more ways than none. Nobody else quite sees it but me. His heart beats faster, his eyes stand wider, and he talks a lot quicker. It's as if he's still paranoid of somebody attacking him. I try to calm him on some bad days, but he quickly denies it and forces himself to get better. I wish I could help far more than just soothing him, but what else would I do? What could I do? I swallow down the new lump in my throat and stare forward.

Our victors flood out of the Justice Building, their blood thirst more dominant now than ever. A loud praise from the audience echoes throughout the area as the excitement reaches everyone. Even Idelia smiles and starts clapping for the event to start. I don't. I just want to get out of here. As soon as I see Finnick though, I can't help but smile. He is barely allowed to make eye contact with me in public, but his appearance is enough to bring butterflies to my stomach.

The mayor, Erebus Thonter, hobbles up to the podium. He has gained a few pounds for the last 4 years. So, in a way, he kind of looks like a little round ball. The little hair he has left is sticking straight up and his purple suit is practically bursting at the seams. He literally looks like he could just roll around instead of walking. His plastically altered face stands stiffly in a fake smile. He clears his throat and starts the event.

"District 4, may I be the first to welcome you all to the Reaping of the 70th annual Hunger Games!" he starts. The audience roars in response as some victors smile and whistle. Fin gives his signature smile as Mags tries to do anything but glare.

"He looks great today," Idelia whispers as she stares wide eyed at Finnick.

I give a light laugh and turn back to the mayor. He goes on to talk about the meaning behind the Games. He explains why the districts deserve to be treated like pieces in a game board and how the event was started. This is truly the most boring speech ever given. Though, I am kind of relieved that there is time between filing into the square and the actual reaping. It would just take too much out of me to fall straight into that. I need this time to let my head adjust to the cruelty of the moment.

He finishes, hobbles off, and in his place stands Asteria, the Capitol escort. She gets much applause which I can see she more than appreciates. Every year, she goes for some sort of animal to base her outfit on. 4 years ago it was butterflies, last year it was zebras, and this year she's focusing on ladybugs. The woman looks like a train wreck. Her wig is the color of grass with moving ladybugs sprinkled on top. Her lips are nude except for a little circle of red with black polka dots. The same pattern adorns her puffy short dress and nails while her skin has been died light green. Her shoes, like every year, actually flap with every step. The amount of time and money she puts into an outfit she will wear one day could feed a family of six for three whole meals here. She doesn't care.

"Let's give one big District 4 round of applause to our mayor for the wonderful speech!" she starts in a loud, high pitched voice. I almost burst out laughing when her wig starts shaking with her excitement. The little ladybugs on it wiggle back and forth.

"Now, the time has come once again to select one lucky young man and woman for the amazing honor of representing the wonderful District 4 in the 69th annual Hunger Games!" The people surrounding me bark out in excitement. I personally passed up the whole 'Career Training University' thing, but Idelia, along with the rest of the people my age, dove right into it. "Shall we start with the boys this year?" She puts a hand up to her ear as the loud begging roar comes from the boys' side of the square. She laughs and clears her throat, "If you insist."

She toddles over to the male bowl. Though I know I shouldn't be quite nervous yet, my heart beats so loud that it numbs my senses. I am not a boy, obviously, but it still feels like my name is going to get pulled from that bowl right now. Asteria twiddles playfully around the edges and dives in, picking one unlucky name out. She toddles back to the microphone, rips open the paper, and reads out loud.

"Demere Nemone!" She shouts as she scans the crowd. Out of habit, I scan to hear someone volunteer, but no one does.

Demere looks to his feet, his face pale and light green. He looks as though he might puke. But when he looks back up, his face is strong. I guess he must have pulled it together somehow. He walks stiffly on stage. Young sobs can be heard from the front of the square. My heart sinks as I see that the sources of the tears are Demere's young siblings. How his face stays strong is a wonder to me.

He makes it up to the stage as Asteria puts a bony green arm around his shoulders and leads him to the microphone.

"What a handsome lad we have this year!" She says into the cameras and turns to face him, "How old are you boy?"

"Sixteen" he says shortly.

"Well I think you'll give the other districts a run for their money this year. Let's hear it for Demere Nemone!" And with that, Asteria shoves him off to the side and clears her throat, "And now, for the girls."

Finnick shoots me a quick glance of hope as my heart beat multiplies. My breathing becomes rapid and my palms start to glaze over with sweat. It can't be me this year. I've come so close to passing the Reaping forever! I am _not _going to get chosen. I simply cannot and will not have my name plucked from so many others. Asteria circles her hand around the bowl, building the anxiety. It won't be me. How could it possibly be me? No. Never.

She rips open the paper and reads. "Annabeth Cresta!"

That's my name. Maybe I misheard. Maybe she said someone else. But as I see Finnick and Mag's eyes polish over with tears, I know; it's me. My heart beat intensifies as I stand. Idelia grasps my hand and keeps it intertwined with hers, but I shake it off. I must look strong. My senses dull. My ears ring with the intensity of the moment and my vision blurs with the strong beating of my heart. It takes all of my power to walk straight as I near the stage.

Asteria puts the same surgically altered arm over my shoulders as she did with Demere and leads me next to him. I do not dare look at Finnick even though his gaze boars into me. If I do sneak a glance I know I will break. Just like a china cup onto the hard wooden floor, I would break into a thousand pieces with one look. So I stare straight ahead, past the cameras and the crowd and into the mountains.

"Now come along, shake hands you two," Asteria says with a look to both of us.

His hand slowly stretches outward. I hesitantly grab it; not trusting anyone at the moment. His palms sweat and his fingertips vibrate. He's nervous too.

"District 4, may I be the first to introduce to you, your courageous and strong representatives for the 70th annual Hunger Games!" A loud applause booms over the audience, "And, as always, may the odds be ever in your favor." The audience gives Asteria a standing ovation. The victors stand and applaud too. Of course, they are cheering for our death.

We walk through the Justice building. The thick steel doors close behind us. I look over at Demere. He looks as though he can't hold it in anymore.

"Now, I bet your loved ones would like to say a goodbye, even though I'm sure one of you will be back soon. Here you are," Asteria says as she leads us to separate rooms.

I file into mine and immediately collapse onto the red velvet couch, rung out like a washcloth. I have to admit, after everything is said and done, I don't know why I was so surprised that it was me. President Snow lives to torcher people. I'm just the next in line with Finnick. I should have known. I guess I fooled myself. And now, here I am, stuck just sitting on a stupid red velvet couch while my limited minutes float away.

Suddenly the door barges open, "I should have volunteered."

I look up to see Idelia. Wet tears stain her pale face. I immediately stand and hug her as she sobs into my shoulder.

"No, I wouldn't have let you." I whisper as I hug her closer.

"But I was the one that trained! I was the one that could've saved you!" Idelia says as she lets go.

"Idelia, I would have died if you volunteered for me, you know that." I say as I get her a tissue.

She grabs it and struggles with something in her ears. When she stops, she holds something in her hands. She opens up her grasp to reveal a pair of earrings. They are simple yet beautiful. A simple white pearl dusted in shimmery silver dust sparkles against the daylight through the window.

"For luck," She says as she puts them in my hand. Without hesitation I put them in my ears.

"Thank you Idelia." I say as I hug her again. I realize now that she has been more than a friend to me all these years. She has been a sister in a way.

"Time's up," A peacekeeper orders as we let go.

"Just get water, get a weapon, and you'll be fine. I'll see you when you come back, okay?" She says quickly as a peacekeeper grabs her out of the room.

"I promise I'll come back!" I yell as the door closes.

I sit in silence and stare out the window. I fiddle with the earrings she gave me. I look around the room and stroke the soft velvet couch. I have to distract my mind so I don't break. My name is Annabeth. Some call me Annie. I'm 18. My father died. My mother died. I live with Mags. She is Finnick Odair's grandmother. I have fallen in love with Finnick Odair. I wonder if he will mentor me. What if he doesn't? What if I never see him again? What if I die a brutal and bloody death all for him to see?

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach and beats rapidly. I rush to the door, hands shaking. Maybe I can run and find him, just to say goodbye. If I open the door and run really quickly, the Peacekeepers won't have time to trap me until I get to him.

The knob twists and the door slams open, but I didn't do it. I can hear a couple Peacekeepers yelling in protest, but the door closes, and the voices become quieter.

"Annie." I look up to see Finnick's sea green eyes staring back at mine.

I immediately hug him. I feel safe in his arms, as if nothing could ever hurt me with him there.

"Please forgive me," Finnick says as I let go. He shrinks down to his knees and tears cascade down his golden face.

"You didn't do anything Fin," I say as I sit down on the floor in front of him. I put a finger under his chin and tilt his eyes up to meet mine.

"I did to. It's all my fault. This is all my fault. It's always my fault." He takes my hand in both of his and looks down again.

I stroke his hair, "Finnick, you couldn't control any of this. Nobody could." A tear slowly trickles down my own cheek and I wipe it away immediately. It's my turn to look strong.

"One person. One person can control this, and I made him mad." Finnick says as his face looks back up to mine.

"Who? Fin, I don't understand." I say with a trio of tears sliding down my cheeks.

"Snow. President Snow. He rigged it because I made him mad." Finnick shakes his head and puts a warm hand to my cheek. "I love you so much Annie. I swear on my life that I will do anything and everything in my power to bring you back home. Safe and sound."

He slowly leans in and kisses me. It's that kind of kiss that just speaks louder than words ever can or will. He pulls away and tucks a loose strand of hair away from my face.

"Can you trust me?" Finnick whispers as he looks deeply in my eyes.

"Fin, I will always trust you. No matter what." He grins and lightly kisses my forehead.

"Good. Because I am going to be the best mentor to you a tribute has ever had." He says with a smile.

Finnick Odair, my mentor. How lucky am I to have the Famous Finnick Odair to mentor?

How lucky am I to have him forever?


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- The Strategy

Finnick's P.O.V

Why does everything have to be my fault? All I do is cause chaos. I don't understand why Annie still loves me, but she does. After all of this time on her never giving up on me, I can't give up on her when she needs it most. I sneak a glance at her as Asteria leads us onto the Capitol train. As usual, I can't see a single emotion pass her eyes. She has the special ability of showing no thoughts. Of course, I have to try my hardest to do the same.

That Demere boy broke down into a few tears soon after the goodbyes. To be honest, I saw it coming. I knew as soon as his little siblings came filing through that door that he was going to break. I would try to lend a few comforting words, but now he is a potential threat to Annie and so he is to me. He stands tall, at least 6 feet, and his many hours of stretching hard leather over the heels of shoes shows in his stiff frame. His mentor, Beth Tousik, stands awkwardly behind us. She seems as quiet as a ghost as Asteria talks endlessly about what fashion may be incorporated into this year's opening ceremony.

"And I can't even imagine how they will incorporate turquoise this year! You two must be very excited, yes?" Asteria turns around and looks at Annie and Demere.

I nudge Annie and she clears her throat, "Oh! Yes, we are both very…excited."

Asteria laughs and turns back to face the chrome hallway of the train. Annie shoots me a quick glance of thanks and I slightly grin.

"Ah, here we are. Home sweet home, right Finnick?" Asteria asks with a look to me as she opens the door wide to the main room of the train.

As soon as I see the artificial colors sprouted all around the room, memories wash over me like a wave. I remember stepping in here as a frail 14 year-old, too scared to say my own name. I remember Ero, my district partner, and my wonderment at her blood thirst. I realize now that I was more than scared of her.

I walk into the room, my feet stepping near the familiar orange velvet couches and crystal coffee table to the left of the grand room. Against the left wall stands an obnoxiously sized T.V that strikes nightmares of watching my own reaping as a nervous boy. I look directly in front of the doorway to see that the dining section hasn't changed either. A buffet of Capitol food stands on chrome tables and boarders a deep colored dining table in the very center. On top of the table, crystal knives, forks, spoons, and cups of every shape are decorated throughout. And finally, a large roast in the center and maroon placemats finish off the royal scene. I can't seem to enjoy it at all. Once again, I am not tempted to devour the cakes, creams, or pastries around the room. No, this room has far too many nightmares edged into the cracks of the wooden floor.

"Yep, just like home," I flash my signature smile to Asteria who immediately escapes into a sea of giggles.

Annie slowly meets me at the dining table, eyes wide. I look at her and grin.

"It's so beautiful, all of it," she whispers to me as her eyes dart to every new feature.

"This is nothing compared to the city." I let out a sigh and turn to her, "Eat whatever you want. Don't fill up on the rich stuff, but meat and bread should be on the top of your list."

"Why can't we eat too much of the desserts?" Demere chimes in as he drifts to Annie and I.

"Because when you get in the Arena, chances are you'll be starving throughout most of the occasion. You don't want grease and sugar to be the only thing you have in your stomach. A little is fine, just don't take in what you wouldn't want in the Arena."

Demere nods along with Annie. I eye Beth in the corner of the room sitting on the orange velvet couches. I secretly loathe her at the moment for giving me her tribute to worry about. Not that I mind helping another innocent, but for her to leave a desperate 16 year-old boy to makeshift on his own is reaching a low that I could never attempt. She and I both know that the training starts right now. From the time you step onto the train until the time you step onto the elevator that brings you up into the Arena is fair game. She and I both know that information should be shoved into the tribute's head until the moment they leave. She has already given up on Demere, and I see that. He isn't getting any sponsors.

"Look at Finnick; quite the mentor he has become! Annie dear, you are more than lucky to have this handsome lad look over you the next week." Asteria trots over in her ladybug shoes and puts a bony arm around my shoulders and gives me a tight squeeze.

Annie laughs nervously, "Yes, I am lucky to have him."

I grin slightly at her words, knowing that they mean a bit more than what the others took them in as.

"Don't give me too much credit now; I only won my games by a hair." I attempt to change the subject, and Asteria bites on as soon as the words escape my mouth.

"Oh! Now , you mustn't say that! You made District 4 as proud as ever," Asteria smiles around the room and clears her throat. She turns to Beth and Demere and escapes into a conversation about how piercings have been made such a popular technique at the Capitol.

I have to speak with Annie. We have to make a strategy. As soon as the three of them are completely engulfed in Asteria's bright voice, I firmly grab Annie's wrist and quietly yank her into the hallway. As soon as the door closes shut behind us, I put a stiff finger to my lips, noting that neither one of us can speak until we get to Annie's room. She nods. We file down the hallway until I spot a door with a sign next to it that says **Female-District 4**. I slowly open the door and gently yank Annie inside.

"Fin, what's wrong?" She asks immediately after I close the door.

"Keep your voice down just in case," I say in a whisper. "We need to come up with a strategy."

Annie laughs, but it isn't out of amusement. "Why even try Finnick? It's not like I have a chance."

This takes me by surprise. Annie never gives up.

I gently place my hand on her cheek, "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. I thought we had an agreement that you would trust me."

She looks at me, "Of course I trust you Finnick, but I-,"

"Okay, that's all I need. Don't give up on me Annie," I drop my hand and start to pace back and forth across the room. "Now, we need a solid strategy, you need to play a part. Forget yourself, play a role." I stop pacing to look at her and to check if she follows.

"Is that what you did, play a part?" she asks quietly.

"I still do," I respond. "But that is not the point Annie. We have to come up with an alter ego, someone you can hide under until you get out of the spotlight."

I think of training, what it'll be like to see her next to the typical boys in District 1 & 2. To be honest, she seems frail next to them. She needs a personality that can compete with their bulging frame and deathly skill with weapons. Or maybe, she can camouflage. Maybe, she can dissolve into the rest of them. That way, the Careers won't mark her on their list to take out first. If she plays it right, she can hide and sweep out right under their feet.

"I have it," I say with a snap of my finger. "Just fade into the background."

Her eyebrows knit together, "But don't I want to look intimidating? Don't I want to look scary?"

"Annie love, to be honest, you don't have the ability to be scary." I say with a smile.

She crosses her arms over her chest, "Then tell me more about your genius plan."

"You have to fade into the background. Don't try to impress the Gamemakers, spend most of your time at the survival stations, get an average score, and don't even make an effort to gain allies."

"But what about the sponsors? What if I _need_ allies?"

"You let me worry about that. Trust me, remember?" I say as I grab both of her hands and look into her eyes.

"What if I mess up?" She whispers between the little space that separates us.

"Then I'll think of something different," I kiss her forehead to calm her and let go of her hands. "Do as I say, and you'll be fine."

"I love you," she whispers quiet enough for only me to hear.

"And I love you," I whisper back and open the door. "Now after about 5 minutes, come into the dining cart. Change your clothes so they think that's the reason you came in here. Okay?"

She nods again and I smile. With a turn of my heel, I escape into the hallway again. I know she must be as scared as ever. The possibilities you think of during this time are scary enough to give you nightmares for a couple of years. And I know I may be hard on her now, but she will understand once the training begins in a couple of days. I open the door to the dining cart to see Asteria and Beth in a deep conversation about the latest parties of the Capitol.

"I swear, the whole town was there!" Asteria says with a laugh as she takes another sip of wine. She looks to me and her eyes widen, "Oh there you are Mr. Odair! We all thought you had disappeared!"

I give a laugh, "No, I am sorry for being so rude, but I wanted to find my room. It's perfect as always."

"I can't imagine you ever being rude , but yes the rooms always seem to be the best feature, I suppose."

Beth looks at me and bats her eyelashes, "Should we send for dinner? Or should we wait until Annie can join us?"

"Oh no, let's go ahead and start. I can't imagine why she would take long."

We gather around the table as a trio of Avoxes serve us our feast. Annie comes in shortly after, with a new outfit like I had said. Throughout the whole dinner, Demere eyes Annie and I suspiciously. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to; his questioning looks are enough to know he is curious about us. And as we end dinner to see the Reapings, with his gaze still upon the two of us, I make a final conclusion that he is a threat. That boy knows something he shouldn't .

I turn my attention to the screen. Different districts flash by in as little as 10 minutes each, giving us just enough time to see how intimidating their tributes are. When District 4 pops up, I am happy to see Annie and Demere don't look the least bit scared to the audience. Both of them look strong. I shoot a quick glance to Annie of approval. She nods and grins ever so slightly. By the end of it all, the results are same as usual; Districts 1 & 2 are both blood thirsty and as strong as ever. Districts 7 and 5 both look surprisingly challenging. Their usual skin and bone tributes are replaced with decent looking children that have filled in cheeks and all. The rest of the Districts are a blur, unnoticeable and unmemorable.

Through the windows, I can see the sun setting in the distance. Yawns start to come through on all of us.

"Well, I think we should all get some sleep. Sleep is very important, you know." Asteria says with a raise of her eyebrows. We all nod as if this is new information and say a simple goodnight to each other.

Demere and Asteria head out into the hallway first, followed by Beth. I put a hand around Annie's shoulders and lead her to the hallway. As we get to her room, we come to a halt.

"Sleep as much as you can. It won't come easily in the Arena," I say stiffly, knowing that eyes could be watching us at every second.

She nods and looks to the ground, "I'm so scared."

I shake my head and force her eyes to meet mine. "Don't be scared. I'm protecting you, remember?"

She smiles and nods again. I wrap my arms around her tightly as if we would never let go. I take in her familiar scent that brings me right back at home and stroke her hair. As I let go, I see a tear cascade down her cheek.

I immediately swipe it away, "You'll be fine Annie. I'll be right down the hall if you need me."

She nods and walks into her room. I turn and slowly make it down the hallway. As I find my own room, I suddenly realize what I must do.

When you're in love, you have signed up to be whatever that person needs you to be. Whether it be a lover, a therapist, a healer, or a friend, you don't hesitate but meet that expectation. You are able to mold into whatever they need. And what Annie needs right now is not a simple boyfriend. What she needs most of all is what I do best.

She needs a protector, and I have promised myself to be exactly that.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- The Parade

Annie's P.O.V

I wake up sourly to the sun beating down through the window of my room. It blinded me as soon as I unfolded my eyes, and thus made me trip out of bed. If I could barely manage the sun in the morning, how was I going to survive the days, maybe weeks, to come? That's what worried me the most, and what bathed me in guilt; as Finnick was still holding on with all of the strength he could manage, I was slowly but surely slipping away from hope. He was trying, why can't I?

As my vision comes back to me, so does my memory. Yesterday was torturous. Being reaped was a draining and emotional experience as I wasn't prepared it would be. Heck, I wasn't even prepared for my name to be called, how could I possibly be prepared for the turmoil and pain after it? I just never expected it to put such a permanent weight on my shoulders. Even as Finnick tried to loosen my nerves, I couldn't seem to shake the echoing of my name as it was being called throughout the audience, and I imagine I never will. I must try for Finnick though, he is the only reason I have managed to control my ever disappearing hope.

I look at the round clock beside my bed: 7:30. I groan at the numbers. Finnick said I needed to sleep as much as possible while I still can, but with only seven and a half hours to manage, I imagine it will be hard to fulfill the task. No use trying to revive my unconsciousness, my mind was already wide awake.

I slip into the shower, hoping the familiar feel of water would calm me down. It doesn't. I realize now that when water surrounds me, it actually makes my mind reel more. So of course, when I turn off the water and pull on some clean clothes, my mind is buzzing again. I wash my face with cold water to help me snap out of my strange daze. Still nothing. I give up and hesitantly slip into my thoughts.

I open the smooth door back to my room. A low and quiet knock registers through my thick daze. That's strange, it's still pretty early. I can't imagine Asteria being up this early. I open the door anyway. Outside awaits a young girl, I assume around the same age as me, holding a steaming tray of food. Her hair is bright crimson, skin as pale as paper. Her head hangs low, as if ashamed. I smile at her giving her all the kindness I can manage; Avoxes usually don't receive any.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm fine," I say to the girl.

She shakes her head and pushes the tray into my hands.

"Well if you insist," I say with a chuckle. A form of a smile creeps onto the girl's lips. Then as quickly as it was formed, it is replaced with a solemn frown that I assume she wears often.

"Thank you," I whisper just low enough for her to hear. Showing any sign of compassion to an Avox could give you the same fate.

Her eyes go wide and make contact with mine. She grins and nods. She probably hasn't received such kindness in a while. With a switch of a heel, she turns back down the hallway, leaving me with a massive amount of food.

The smell overwhelms me almost immediately as I shut the door. I place the tray in my lap as I sit down on my bed. I turn the T.V on, searching for something to distract me. I look down at the food in front of me. Ham slices sit to the left of perfectly cooked eggs. A muffin shaped pastry shimmers with honey icing against the light streaming through my window. It takes all of my power not to inhale the stuff in a matter of seconds. Instead, I take large bites one at a time. The ham is infused with a sweet juice that floods your mouth with every bite. I decide to eat that slower than the rest; the richness of it may cause a reappearance if I'm not careful.

By the time the last bite is done and my boredom with Capitol T.V has become overwhelming, I hear footsteps coming from outside my room. I turn off the T.V and take the dirty tray with me as I follow the footsteps to the main car.

Demere stares longingly at a pile of pastries, hesitating to take one. I assume his feet made the footsteps that I heard. He looks up at me as I open the door.

"I didn't think anyone else was up," he said.

I chuckled, "Well good morning to you too."

He smiled, "Good morning."

His head turned back to the hundred pastries presented before us. I take one, edging him on, but he still just stares.

"They _are_ for us," I say through a mouthful of sweet tasting bread.

"I know, but I want to follow Finnick's directions," he looked at me. "He said that we shouldn't fill up on sweets right?"

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, he said fill up on them. It would just be a couple."

He smiles, "Well I don't know how good they are yet – I might eat more than a couple."

I chuckle as he grabs two of the fluffy little pastries and crams them into his mouth. I walk over to the end of the buffet and place the tray there. Hopefully the little Avox girl will see it.

"If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?" Demere asks. I dart my head to look at him, but his gaze doesn't meet mine. He stares out the windows of the fast moving train.

"I suppose I don't have a reason to lie," I say truthfully. Unless I can find some trail to him finding a weakness on me, I can't mislead him.

"It's about Finnick. Well, actually both you and him." He still stares out the windows and I can tell he's avoiding my eyes.

He can't know about Finnick and I, can he? I could see the way he was eyeing both of us last night with curiosity in his eyes, but he couldn't come to that assumption so quickly could he? If he knows, his life is in danger.

I clear my throat, nerves making it unbearable to talk through, "What about him and me?"

This time, he meets my gaze. I guess he heard my voice crack in answer. A smile forms on his lips.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. It's not like I'll tell anyone; it's none of their business. It's barely my business right?"

I look down to the floor. He knows. My heart beats uncontrollably through my rib cage. Maybe I can still play dumb.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. Look, I'm not stupid. You guys can barely stop looking at each other for two minutes. Not to mention the fact that I live in District 4 too. Words can pass like wildfire in that place."

I walk closer to him so that when my words come out in a whisper, no one else can hear either.

"You have to give me your _word_ that you don't tell a living soul. Act like you have no idea. I don't want you to get hurt."

My words came out wrong; that probably sounded like a threat. And by looking at his wide eyes, I can tell that impression came across to him as well.

"I wasn't going to," he mumbled.

He filled his plate up silently and went back to his room, leaving me hollow and twisted. I should have tried to clear things up, say my words again, but I didn't – I let him go. Don't I want him to be scared of me? Don't I want to come across as at least a little intimidating? I rub my temples from the new headache creeping through. If this is all I can endure without a pang of guilt, how am I supposed to survive? I try to drink some water to erase the lump in my throat. It doesn't work.

**…**

"Finnick! Finnick Odair!" The sound of the crowd is deafening as we make it out of our train to meet our stylists.

Finnick slaps on his signature smile, the one that I see on a daily basis. His eyes don't sparkle the way they do with the smile that belongs to me. His skin doesn't crinkle on the sides of his eyes when his lips come all the way up. No, this smile is meant for his adoring fans, the majority of them being females.

Finnick has a hand at the middle of my back, leading me through the path. This touch can't be seen as anything but friendly, innocent, but it still leaves a surge of electricity. The pathway leads to a large sand colored building, and in it holds our stylists. I can't help but be mesmerized by past costumes for District Four. They usually are repeated, fish and seaweed always dominating the fabric, but every stylist puts a different spin on it. Hopefully the look will be different this year. Finnick was lucky enough to have a different costume, though it was barely legal for a fourteen year old at the time.

The doors open wide and we all file in, Asteria chirping away at the architecture of the Capitol. I have finally mastered the technique of tuning her out, completely ignoring her. I offer a 'Really?', a 'Oh that must have been very exciting' or maybe even 'You poor thing' and she continues to talk as if her words don't drive me insane. I can tell the rest of our little group has as well. They speak in the same pattern as I do. Finnick is the best at this though.

As we trail in, the audience's screams become muffled behind the layers of cement.

Finnick leans in to whisper in my ear, "I will have to leave in a minute, but remember what I told you: blend in as much as possible. Don't be nervous."

I give a small nod in response. Why did he warn me to control my nerves? Should I be nervous? It seems his words have done the opposite effect as my palms start sweating.

"Now, you two must be very excited to begin the preparations for the parade tonight. Annie dear, why don't you go down that hallway and wait in the room with your name beside it." Asteria points down a smooth hallway to the left, "And Demere you follow down this one," she points to the one to her right.

Demere and I nod at the same moment and do as we are told. I look back at Finnick who hasn't taken his eyes off of me since our quiet conversation. He nods with a grin and I do the same. I wish he could come with me. It makes me even more nervous to be away from him. I cross my arms in attempt to control my heartbeat and find a door with my name beside it. As I pull the door open, I'm not surprised to find the whole room inside chrome from ceiling to floor. To the left of me are round cabinets that line the whole wall. Decorated atop and inside them are numerous beauty tools. I looked at them for a long while and could only put a name to three. To the right is a blank wall and directly in the center stands a cold looking light blue table that I take a seat on.

As soon as I make myself comfortable on the flat surface, the door booms open. In comes four strange looking people. They all look smiley and anxious at my appearance.

"Let's see if we have a chance this year, shall we?" A feminine voice says from behind the cluster of surgically altered people.

A scary looking woman walks forward, gently touching my hair in between her fingertips. She stands tall and slender, her face an oval with raised cheek bones. Her skin has a light purple tint to it that she couldn't have achieved without some surgical adjustment. Her hair is light blue and falls to her waist in a strait and sleek style. Her outfit, or uniform as I assume, is black and reaches from her collar to her ankles. Buttons are sewed in the middle and lace accents come to her wrists.

"I say we do," she smiles at me. "My name is Camilia. I will be your head stylist."

I stifle a grin, "Annie Cresta."

She nods, approving my physical appearance. She clears her throat and turns to the three people behind her, "Beauty base zero if you will."

The three simultaneously nod at her order, though I am muddled in confusion. And as the woman leaves the room to the hands of the three small frames in front of me, I can't help but yearn for Finnick's comforting words for the hours to come.

* * *

Finnick's P.O.V

Why is it that Capitol people always seem to get drunk? Whenever more than thirty of them are together, they drink themselves senseless. Many people have offered me the same substances that made these people oblivious to their surroundings but I have refused time after time again. I like being fully aware at all times.

3 hours have passed since I left Annie to her stylist. 3 hours and the many people surrounding me are drinking to oblivion. I search for a familiar face, one in particular that I would like to see more than anybody: Johanna Mason. Ever since she had won Victor two years ago, we had become close friends. She understands what I'm going through as far as my…occupation…goes. Snow forced her to do the same thing he has to me, but she refused. And in turn, he killed off her family at the drop of the hat. Our friendship has also stayed strong due to the fact that I allied with her love in my game and avenged his death rather well. Scarr was his name, and I will never forget that.

I scanned the thick crowd of mentors, victors, and escorts to see if I could find her face. I heard she was mentoring this year, her tribute will easily ally with Annie if that's the case, and I had hoped she would come to the welcome party held for mentors and other important people to the Games.

A finger tapped my shoulder, "Who are you looking for ?"

I turned around at the voice almost instantly. Johanna stood there, smiling and laughing just as I last saw her. I hugged her quickly, feeling eyes on us from all around.

"Were you trying to scare me? Because if that was the goal, you achieved it." I said through a grin.

"No, I was just desperate to find someone sober in this messy little pit of crazies we have here." She took a look around, as if trying to prove her point.

I nodded and rolled my eyes, "As long as I get to laugh at their stupidity without them knowing, I'll be fine."

She laughed, "Good point. Want to get some food?"

I nodded. We made our way through the insane cluster of people in front of us until we made it to the monstrous buffet. We grabbed a plate full of the most appetizing food and found an empty table. As soon as we set our food down, Johanna's eyes were serious.

"I need to tell you something." She said while she plucked a few pieces of meat in her mouth.

I knitted my eyebrows together, showing my confusion for her words, "Go on."

She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. It was hard to make out her voice through all of the screaming and loud music around us.

"Do you know Plutarch? Plutarch Heavansbee?" she waited for an answer.

I shake my head. That name made no recognition.

"I was wishing you did. Anyhow, he's planning something. Something so massively huge that Snow himself doesn't know what's going on."

My eyes widen, "What are you talking about?"

She pulled in closer towards me, our noses were centimeters from each other, "A rebellion."

I pulled back, shocked. No, that's impossible, "Are you out of your mind?"

She raised her hands in defense, "Wasn't my idea. I'm just joining them. We call ourselves the rebels."

"Johanna, you know that kind of stuff will get you killed."

"And if it does? Nobody cares if I die anyway. Everybody I ever loved is long gone now. I would be fighting and dying for them." She sat back in her chair, arms crossed.

I shook my head, "I care if you die."

She chuckled, "Thanks Finnick. Really, means a lot." Her tone sounded sarcastic but I couldn't be sure with the sounds all around us.

"How far has this thing gone?" I asked, still shocked.

"Pretty far. District 13 is going through with it along with some victors. I know Haymitch from District 12 is a part of us as well as Beetee from 3."

I looked around the room at them. Haymitch sits beside one of the Victors from 11, Chaff I believe, both of them wasted. Beetee sits near them, twisting some sort of wire. Then, something stops me. District 13.

"What do you mean District 13?" I ask her after I finish eyeing the two men.

She laughs, "Honestly Finnick, did you really believe they had just destroyed that place? No. It's very much alive."

I stare at her, wide eyed. I immediately turn my face into a fake smile and laugh, just in case someone is looking at us. She does the same.

"We are having a meeting after the Games, to sort things out. Top secret location, so I can only tell you if you're with us." Her fake smile stays on her face, but I can see the intensity in her eyes, begging for my answer to be yes.

Of course I want to join them. I have to avenge my parents in some way don't I? But then there's Annie. She is still so alive and a majority of my life. What if Snow found out I was playing for a team that was against his own? He knows better than anyone that the amount of pain he would put Annie through would double, triple, onto me. I couldn't take the chance. Not yet. Not while Annie is in such a short grasp from the man himself.

I shake my head and her eyes blink in shock. "Not yet," I whisper.

She squints her eyes at me, "Is it because of that Annie girl?"

I lean in close, anger suddenly fuming through my skin, "That _Annie girl_ is my life. I can't risk her. I can't do that. I want to fight with you, but I can't."

"She's not asking for a babysitter Finnick." Johanna crosses her arms.

The anger makes my lungs blister, "If I agree right now, she is about as dead as your family and my parents, Johanna."

Her eyes flash with guilt. I have never seen that emotion on her face before, "Oh. I never realized that Finnick, I'm sorry. We will wait for you then." She lands a soft hand on my forearm. I notice now that I have been clenching my fists with anger.

I relax and nod, "Much appreciated."

"Oh! They are announcing, everyone! Get a good seat!"

I would just look out the window of the rectangular room we are all in. It's in a perfect place really; right over the pathway for the chariots, above the audience's bleachers, a humongous window to the left to see the event. I could look out there and see the whole thing. But Johanna grabs my wrist anyway and leads me out to the roaring audience. The breeze is strong and cold, cutting right through my thin clothes. We really do have a good view. Caesar's voice booms over the loud speaker.

"Welcome everyone to the tribute parade for the 70th annual Hunger Games! I bet you are all excited, yes?" A loud applause rumbles the ground, "Shall we start Claudius?"

Claudius speaks now, "I think we should! I am so excited for this year Caesar."

"I know Claudius, as am I." Another loud applause shakes the cement we stand on. "Let's begin with District 1!"

The mentors from District 1 smile and clap their hands in response. I look away, suddenly nervous for Annie. If she is forced with a hideous costume, well what will that do? I cringe when I think of her being forced in a costume that barely covers her, as mine did. The humiliation she would have to go through. I would probably run down there and rip her from the chariot, so that she could be in less pain.

Johanna nudges my side, "Hey, there's your Annie."

I look up as soon as the words escape her. I see her…my Annie and she looks beautiful. She looks perfect. The crowd howls in response. From head to toe, she wears pearls. A long dress completely made of the things doesn't stop until they completely cover her feet. Her sleeves hit the floor, and with every move, she shimmers. They come to a plunging V on her chest. A flat diamond shaped blanket of pearls sits atop her straightened hair. Pearls are scattered in random places throughout her hair, looking like diamonds in a sea of black. She looks like an angel. My angel.

Johanna laughed, "Lucky you."

I look to see what she means and I chuckle when I find the source. Her poor tributes are dressed in obnoxiously sized tree costumes, coming from the District of Lumber.

"Maybe they find it pretty," I say with a gesture to the audience below us.

Johanna shakes her head, "You never know."

And then the parade goes on. The rest of the tributes come out, President Snow makes the same scripted speech as he does every year, and we all rise to sing the Anthem of Panem. I sing it halfheartedly, knowing I wouldn't be standing for it much longer. Then with a final wave of his hand, Snow ends the event. The audience dies down and the tributes pull back into their stations. I practically run to the station Annie waits in. Asteria tries to toddle behind me while Beth walks as slow as a slug, not even making an effort.

I find Annie, looking just as perfect as I saw her from far away, and my heart skips a beat. Her stylist is next to her, both of them talking.

"Congratulations, both of you." I say to the two girls. The stylist giggles uncontrollably.

Annie looks at me, "Finnick! I knew you'd find us."

I smile at her, the kind of smile I save only for her, and turn back to her stylist. "How in the world did you come up with such a genius creation?"

Her cheeks turn pink underneath her purple skin, "Oh well, I was inspired by Annie's dress she wore to the Reaping, and realized we hadn't done pearls in a while."

I nod, "Amazing. Really."

She giggles more as Asteria comes to meet us. Demere and his stylist talk too, I hadn't noticed them at all. Demere has the same pearl fabric, just in a suit form. His hair has been dusted with grey shimmery powder, and a few pearls are nestled on the strands.

"That went perfectly! Congratulations everyone!" Asteria says, her words slurring together due to the alcohol.

I nod at her comment. Annie's eyes never leave mine.

"Come, follow me to your rooms. We all need some rest," Asteria says with a wave of her hand to follow her. Annie grabs my wrist to hold us back behind our entourage.

She hugs me tightly once we are out of sight. I hug her back without hesitation.

"So everything went well?" She asks as we release.

"No. Everything went perfect." I say with a smile.

And it will. Everything will fit into place. Rebel or not, I owe Annie a happy ending.

* * *

**N/A: Hope you enjoy this one! Happy New Year! Thank you for all the support as always. You guys are the best. **


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Becoming a Killer

Annie's P.O.V

"You'll get it next time, District 4. Just aim for the center." The trainer says as the heavy spear clatters on the ground before the target.

Truth is, throwing a spear is really easy. And so is knife throwing and killing with a sword. The only reason I haven't gotten right in the middle of the target is because I promised Finnick I wouldn't; he wants me to blend into the background.

"Tell me again where my right hand goes," I say to the man. He directs my fingers right where I know they should go, and I fake a weak throw… again.

I shrug my shoulders and leave the station as if it has defeated me. I look around the large training center, trying to figure where I should go next. The Careers stand huddled around the weaponry, each of them egging the next one on. I have to admit, the way the District 2 female can decapitate three dummies in less than five minutes really unsettles me. Demere has succeeded in joining their alliance. I see him cheer on the two boys from Districts one and two wrestling. His eyes dart my way, and for a moment, guilt flashes before his eyes. But the look is quickly replaced with a cold gaze as he returns to cheering.

I wasn't surprised at his betrayal. I didn't depend on him in the first place, nor did I trust him. To me, he has just become more competition to dispose of. I look to the Gamemakers above us, laughing off their large amounts of alcohol. I roll my eyes at their stupidity. Could they be any more oblivious to the fact that 23 of us will be gone within a matter of days? No. They aren't oblivious; they know exactly what's going to happen. And that is why I hate Capitol people.

I look around at the stations again. The fire making one looks tempting. I couldn't blend in anymore if I tried in that small corner. As I walk over, a large hand clamps down on my shoulder. I jump and turn around.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Demere says with a big grin.

I shake my shoulder free of his grasp, "Looks like you made some new friends."

Demere looks to the Careers who cast curious glances in our direction. "Them? Oh no. Well, not really. Just allies. You got to make connections right?"

"I guess."

"Anyone you're thinking of as an ally?" Demere asks a little too innocently.

I look at him and squint my eyes. This is a trick. The Careers set him up to this, without a doubt. Try to know the enemy- what a perfect plan. Little do they know that I am playing this game too. I put on a stone face and look forward.

"Nope. I don't really like socializing," I lie. Actually, the girl from 5, Devi, and the tributes from District 3, Larissa and Argo, are all three welcoming towards me. Not to mention that Devi can hurdle a spear as far as I can see and land on the target every single time. All four of us had met this morning at the rope ladder, trying desperately to make it across without breaking a limb. We all succeeded.

"Hmm, what a shame. Hope that leaves room for me then." I look up to see that he's avoiding my gaze.

I chuckle, "You want to be allies?"

"Why not? I have a feeling the Careers will ditch me first chance they get. I can't depend on them."

This shocks me. Maybe he was telling the truth. Guilt floods over me. How could I not believe him? I swallow a new lump in my throat and turn to him, hand outstretched.

"Allies?" I ask, gesturing my arm forward.

He takes my small hand in his and shakes it up and down.

"Allies," he confirms.

The last time we had shaken hands, I remember, was the Reaping. The atmosphere of that moment floods back as he lets go of my hand, his eyes now darkened and sullen. He felt the same memory I did, I suppose.

"What are you going to do about them?" I ask him, nodding slightly towards the Careers.

He shrugs, grinning. "Maybe both of us can join them." Then he leans in and whispers in my ear, "And then leave first chance we get."

His breath tickles the nape of my neck, but I pretend not to notice his strange behavior.

I take a slight step back, "Sounds like a plan."

He nods, "I'll go convince them that we're a package. And that you have some sort of skill when it comes to killing people. No offense Annie, but you can't use a weapon to save your life."

I raise an eyebrow. "Maybe I don't need a weapon."

He chuckles and turns away, walking towards the group of Careers. Who has replaced this boy? He was as silent as a shadow until this moment. He was a scared little person only days before this. What could have possible given him this confidence that he now overflows with? This could benefit him or this could damage him. As his official ally though, I have sworn to protect him as he has to me as well.

I turn to Demere, amazed at his new character. A slight shudder runs through me as I find the District 2 girl glaring at me from across the room. I find all the bravery inside me and return the gaze. To my surprise, it's then that a smile forms across her face as if accepting me. I give a slight nod. I guess I have made it to her standards.

I make my way to the fire making station, trying desperately to shake the glare from my mind. I smile, despite my emotions. This is exactly what Finnick told me not to do. I am definitely not blending in now. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach as the weight of my decision starts to form on my shoulders. Maybe this will help me in the long run. No matter where I go, I always end up getting tangled in knots don't I?

Finnick's P.O.V

How long have I been struggling in the darkness? I literally can't see my hand as I stretch it in front of my eyes. All I know is that I have escaped into a hallway. I saw Johanna and a few other people I couldn't name walk down here only minutes before I followed them. I must have missed a turn or two, because I am lost. No more voices lead the way.

I don't know why I wanted to follow them. Perhaps it was pure curiosity. Johanna's words from the night before haven't left my mind. _A rebellion,_ she had said. I know Johanna's crazy, but I could never anticipate this. And now here I am, crawling around in darkness, desperately searching for answers… literally.

It might be a figment of my imagination, but a gleam of light shines at the end of the hallway. It's slight, a thin rectangle reflecting off the left wall as if coming through between a cracked door, but it's the only light I have seen in 30 minutes. I stumble after it, trying desperately to reach it before it runs away.

"He is just a boy, really," a deep voice jolts me awake. A stop walking, too stunned to move. I found them! This must be where they ended up. I lay my back flat against the wall, next to the crack of light and listen in.

"He has been put through way too much to be called just a boy, Plutarch." I recognize Johanna's voice from inside the room.

What boy are they talking about?

"He declined our offer, Johanna. There is nothing more to say. You've told him everything. Nothing can stop him from telling President Snow himself," a slurred voice mutters far away from the door. I assume it's the man from District 12, Haymitch, or maybe Beetee from 3.

"He didn't exactly decline. He said not yet. It's just that Annie girl that has him hesitating. He wouldn't dare tell President Snow a word. We can trust him!" Johanna says.

"Watch your volume, Johanna. Remember where we are," a tired voice says. This voice must belong to Beetee.

They are talking about me. About my response to the invitation of their rebellion. My ears strain to hear more, but the voices have become softer.

"He will be the first person President Snow will kill off if he finds out," Haymitch says.

"Which is exactly why he wouldn't tell him," Johanna argues.

"She has a point, Haymitch. We aren't giving him much credit. He must be smart," Beetee raises his voice.

I almost dare open the door and step inside, ready to defend myself, but something tells me that that's a stupid idea.

"He needs a reason." Haymitch says.

"What?" Johanna speaks my exact thoughts.

"He needs a reason to fight. We all have a reason. We all have something or someone to avenge. It isn't fair if we expect him to fight without any fuel."

Everyone stays silent, shocked by the truth of his words. I have my parents to avenge, my pride, my life. But then I have an anchor- Annie. If Haymitch is saying that Annie needs to get hurt before I can fight, then he has another thing coming. She is not getting hurt.

"The time will come when the boy discovers what that fuel will be, and we can't waste any time waiting for him to come to his senses. We have a rebellion to organize." Plutarch lowers his voice slightly at the word 'rebellion.'

This is my queue to leave. Turning around, I use the walls to guide me back to my original location. If I had known that they wanted me to join them this badly, I would have given them a more solid answer. A yes? Probably not. I have Annie and Mags to loose, the most important people in my life. I simply cannot risk them. That would make me as evil as President Snow himself.

Light shines through the hallway a lot sooner than I thought it would. I guess making my way back was a lot easier than navigating my way forward. I wish this could be the same with life. I've gotten myself tangled in messes that I can't exactly find my way out of. And as I tape on a smile and shove the previous scene back into the depths of my mind, I know that I will never untangle those messes. Might as well make the best of it.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5- The Careers**

**Finnick's P.O.V**

Sponsors. She needs sponsors. I run a nervous hand through my hair as I walk down the narrow Capitol hallway to the lounge. I'm going to have to turn into the Famous Finnick Odair. I hate it, but I have to get Annie sponsors one way or another. With the strategy we both came up with, hiding her skill won't get her anything in that death trap.

Muffled laughter comes through the walls as I near the bar. Endless refreshments and food are given out on demand to every mentor brought to the Games. Even some of the Gamemakers join in to wash away the stress of murdering innocent children. This is where most of the Sponsors jump in to socialize, so I have to take advantage of the possibilities.

I walk to the end of the hallway, seeing the neon colored bar in front of me. To the left is a relaxing area, complete with bright orange couches and blue carpets. Yellow coffee tables sit on top of the aqua material. I have to admit, the beauty of the Capitol always stuns me. White spherical lights dangle from the ceiling even though the window that covers the wall completely to the right, illuminates the room perfectly.

It's quite simple really, the usual method of gaining sponsors. Over there stand the career district mentors, being hounded by desperate companies. A few mentors from six, seven, or nine huddle in a corner and actually have a good time. And then to the far right hand section of the bar, sit the hopeless ones; the victors or mentors who drink away their memories or inject an unspeakable amount of morphine to blur their pain.

I can't help but notice the man from 12, Haymitch. Ever since my successful eavesdropping on their meeting, I've been thinking about how bad he must be. If he's drunk 95 percent of the time, he has to be a little nice right? He would be too wasted or hung over to be rude. Maybe I can grow close to him in order to find out more about the rebellion. Then again, I have Johanna. Assuming their desperation for my cooperation is as strong as they let on, I will be able to know everything I want.

A few mentors catch my eye and wave a sloppy hand towards my direction. It's as if I turned on a switch in my brain to become their Finnick. My signature smile stamps on my face, my throat clears way for my seductive voice that works wonders, and my body stiffens into the strong Victor everyone assumes I am. Little do they know how fragile I stand.

"Finnick my boy! Or should I say man after all of these years," a familiar low voice says from behind me. I turn around and see Woof, one of the few District 8 victors. His face has become worn and old due to his many years of mentoring. My five years is nothing compared to his 49 or so. He's one of the few survivors of the games that actually like me.

"Woof!" I say with my own true smile. I can't help but hug the old man every time I see his comforting face. It's refreshing.

"How long has it been?" He asks in a saddened voice.

I shrug, "I would say three years or so."

He looks at me eyes wide in confusion.

I clear my throat, "Since we last saw each other."

He chuckles, "Oh yes. Three or so years too many. But I was actually commenting on how many years I've had to deal with all of this." He gestures a weak hand around us to all of the drunks. I wonder if he could read minds.

"Too many years for that as well," I nod in understanding. "Is there a way for you to retire?"

This time, Woof lets a loud laugh ring off the walls, but it isn't a laugh due to comedy. It sounds like he laughs out of irony.

He clamps a large hand on my shoulder, making my frame wobble a little. He brings his head closer to mine and speaks in a low voice, "The Capitol never lets you go, my boy. They take you, but don't let them own you."

His head retreats back to its original place. A warm smile replaces his frown and he begins to speak as if the words beforehand never escaped his lips.

"Who would want to quit the luxury of a Victor?" he asks loudly.

I feel a tight squeeze of his hand on my shoulder as he begs me to keep up the act.

"Yes, what else could we ask for?" My voice reaches his own volume.

An ebony skinned man comes up behind Woof and clears his throat. Woof turns around and smiles at the man. They escape into conversation, almost as if I was never there. I run another hand through my hair and awkwardly step away from the two. I switch back to the Famous Finnick Odair and find a middle aged wealthy woman sitting idle from any other victor. I smile charmingly at her, sensing she must own some company, and she giggles as I walk near.

"A pretty lady like you shouldn't have to sit by herself," I say with a deep "Famous Finnick Odair" voice.

She giggles once more and pats the portion of the couch next to her, "Then join me if you wish."

I sit next to her and almost gag at her strong perfume.

She holds out her light purple died hand, "Velleta."

I grab her hand lightly and bring it up to my lips, all the while holding her gaze. A pink blush shows from under her altered skin. "Finnick," I say while letting her hand go.

"You think I don't know you?" She asks with a smile. I shrug humbly and she continues, "The Weapon Company my father owns has made you their model ever since you won."

I raise an eyebrow, "So you and your father are fans of mine?"

She nods, "Of course. Along with our company."

I smile._ Got you_, I think to myself. "Then you will absolutely love my tribute Annie Cresta."

**Annie's P.O.V **

"They said no," Demere whispers in my ear as we eat lunch. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as I make sense of his words.

"The Careers? They said no?" I stutter in disbelief.

Demere nods, a dominant frown coming across his lips.

"How could they say no?" I ask.

He looks up, meeting my eyes, "Mars, the boy from District 1, said you were weak. Too weak. He said you hadn't impressed any of them. So, they all decided to refuse your offer for an alliance."

Disbelief still numbs my senses as I try to process his explanation. There goes my only plan or survival. I had asked Demere to see if the Careers could accept me as one of their own. I hadn't really thought about what would happen if they said no. My plan would be so smooth if only I could be in their group. Even now, as we eat a rather large lunch, they glare at me. I turn my head, but I can still feel their hot stares beating into the back of my head…judging me with only one glance.

I mutter under my breath, "What now?"

Demere looks away from my wide eyes and lands a gentle hand on my tensed forearm. I relax slightly under his gentle touch, but nothing can distract me from the message he carried to me. _They said no_.

"Well, we _are_ a package right?" Demere asks, squeezing his hand.

"Demere, I can't ask you to refuse an offer from the Careers just because of my weakness. I don't mind if you join them, I just need a plan." I bring my hands up, letting go of Demere's grasp, and hold my head in frustration. _Now what? _

He chuckles slightly, which brings my eyes to reach his. "I am not leaving you stranded out there, Annie. You barely know how to handle a spear."

I shake my head, "Why in the world do you care? You aren't supposed to. I'm supposed to just be competition to you."

His eyebrows knit together, his eyes darting to his shoes. "Maybe I actually care if the only friend I've ever had dies."

I smile, _a friend_. "I am not letting you join my stupid alliance. All I'll do is weigh you down."

He shrugs, "I don't care. I just don't want to see your face flash through the sky on the first day. We are allies." He clears his throat and glances over to the Careers, "And they are our enemies."

"That's a lot of scary enemies," I mumble like a child.

"Hey, we're smart. They're strong, but they don't think the way you and I do…they just act on adrenaline."

"Is that the only hope we have?"

"Yep," he says with a sigh.

I sigh as well, my frustration exiting with my huff of air. Why does Demere want to sacrifice himself for me?

"So let me get this straight," I say after some time. "Instead of joining their alliance and ditching like before, we're going to gang up against them…forming an alliance of our own?"

"Sounds about right," he nods.

I shake my head in disbelief. "Let's hope Finnick's getting us some sponsors."

"Why?" Demere asks with a sour tone I haven't heard before.

"Because we are going to need them."

**Finnick's P.O.V **

I can't seem to slow my thoughts tonight. Everything is buzzing like a heard of angry bees, their main goal making it impossible for me to get any sleep. I have gotten Annie a grand total of ten sponsors. This doesn't necessarily mean that they will all contribute, it just means that they are ready to provide whatever it might be that Annie needs.

Darkness floods the room at last, the last bit of orange sunset settling over the sky. Annie seems to calm my nerves. Maybe I should just sneak into where she sleeps silently, her eyes fluttering with peaceful dreams. I smile at the thought of enveloping her into my arms protecting her against any and all nightmares. It's impossible at this point though. It's too risky.

I pull the blankets off my body and swing my feet over the edge of the bed. Moonlight falls against the floor as it floods through the window to the right. Capitol rooms are so unnecessarily extravagant compared to what we have at home. Even the purple velvet comforter that covers the large bed I sit on would be an impossibility in District 4.

My bare feet hit the cool tile floor as I walk over to the door. Maybe some food would calm me down. I walk down the hallway of rooms to the dining area. There, sitting at the large wood table, is a dark silhouette outlined by the television light. It's a man, I can tell that. And as his head turns to me, I can tell it's Demere. I roll my eyes in the darkness. He is the last person I want to see when I yearn for Annie so badly.

"Couldn't get sleep either?" I ask tightly.

I see his head shake in the darkness.

I nod, "It's a shame. You'll need it in the arena."

He chuckles, "You just know everything don't you?"

I clear my throat. "Well seeing as how I've been through all of this and more, I do know quite a bit."

I grab some sort of cake from the table and sit down across from him.

He glares at me from underneath his brown hair. Now he hates me too? "I don't think I want your help."

Yep, he hates me. "Oh, I think you do," I say with a smirk.

"I have my own mentor," he says, his hands balled into fists.

I chuckle, "Yeah, and she's doing a great job."

To my surprise, he pounds his fist on the table making everything clatter. "Just leave Annie and I alone."

I suck in my breath as his words sink in. _Annie and him?_ No. Even though anger boils inside of me, I slap on a smile, "Looks like someone has developed quite the crush."

From the darkness, I can see his cheeks turn a light pink. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. You want to protect her in there, be her hero. Then, she'll jump into your arms, and you two can run off into the sunset together. You love her."

He looks at me, eyes rid of any anger, "How could you possibly know that?"

I shrug, "Because I know the feeling."

He nods then, understanding. "I know you love her."

At first, I'm shocked. Then I settle back down. "I know you love her too."

Demere falls silent then. I take his absence of words as an agreement.

I clear my throat, "You know only one can make it out of there alive."

He nods, and after a silence he adds, "It'll be her."

I look at him then, wondering if we actually agree on something. Maybe with our combined help, Annie will actually make it out of that death trap. Together, we have to sacrifice for the survival of her. It'll be strange, working with the boy who loves Annie like I do, but not as much. No, that's impossible. I love her in a way that couldn't be matched by another person, no matter how much they tried. I have something he doesn't though; her love. She loves me back, and as much as I respect Demere for sacrificing his life in that arena for her, I'm glad she doesn't love him. If he does die for her life in there, and she comes back alive, I will never stop owing him even in his endless sleep.

I speak finally, "I'm glad we agree on something."

Something flashes before his eyes, shock maybe; shock that I'm actually agreeing to his suicidal attempt at saving her. Suddenly, his green eyes turn a deep Jade. Determination settles across his face, as does mine. He reaches a hand out and I slowly shake it. This is our agreement. This might be the closest we ever get to friends, our love for Annie creating a certain void between us. Maybe I should think better about sacrificing such a young soul with so many loved ones just for the selfish act of having Annie to my own once more, but he wants the same thing.

How could I refuse an offer to save Annie's life?


	7. Chapter 6

**N/A- Hey everyone! Happy Spring break! (And Easter) Sorry I haven't been updating a lot, I'm trying to write whenever I can. **

**Please review! It means so much! You guys are the best! **

**xoxo-FinnickandAnnieForever**

* * *

**Chapter 6- Be Careful with What you Say**

Annie's P.O.V

The last two days have me rung out like a towel. Between training from morning 'till night and trying to fit in a suitable amount of sleep, I barely have the energy to eat. Thank goodness Finnick is there, keeping me sane and all. Without him, I don't know where I'd be. Last night, I had a nightmare so powerful, that I had to sneak down the hallway to feel his arms wrapped around me. My brain has been going crazy, and I'm starting to scare myself. It's like I have no control of my thoughts anymore.

_They are already changing you,_ I think to myself. _Soon, you'll turn to morphine like those freaks from 5 and 6._

_If I even make it out alive, _I counter back. _Which I won't. _

"Chin up sweetie," one of Camilia's assistants says as he forces my chin upward.

I snap back into reality and lift my head slightly, letting him dust the shimmering powder across my cheekbones.

I've been sitting here like a rag doll for the last two hours. These three little people have been altering my skin, perfecting every angle, and pricking away at my hair as if I was their toy. They should be done by now right? I've already been through the interview preparations with Finnick. The strangest part is that I don't feel any swarm of nerves. Maybe that's because half of the preparations session was consumed by Finnick calming me down. That's what he's best at, keeping me calm.

_You'll never see him again,_ a silent thought flashes across my mind.

Why is my mind turning against me already? If I keep going on like this, I might as well start ordering all the morphine I can get.

_You weakling, _my mind snaps back. _You would turn to that drug with Finnick working so hard for you? He deserves better. _

_SHUTUP! _ I yell back. My hands clench into fists and my body goes rigid.

One of the assistant stylists works at unclenching my fingers so that they can paint another coat onto them. They might be telling me something, but my heartbeat is too loud to hear them. I try to regain control of myself, to stop my thoughts from working against me. I close my eyes hard, probably ruining whatever makeup they've done to my lids, and shut out the world. I think of Finnick, our safe haven, the many patterns of knots, the sound of my father's wheelchair echoing through the household, the feeling of sun baking into my back as Finnick teaches me to swim. Home.

And suddenly, no more thoughts threaten to come. I have gained control of my own mind again. Silence. I relax, letting my fingers reach out again, and open my eyes. I find three very unhappy stylists glaring at me.

"You ruined my nails!" one of them screeches from behind me as she picks up my hand.

"And my eyes!" the man mutters angrily.

"What _was_ that?"

I stare at them blankly, wondering myself what had happened. "Sorry, I guess I dozed off and had a…nightmare."

The woman working on my nails turns to me with curiosity, "You need more sleep."

The two others nod in unison behind her. Of course I need sleep. This is sort of obvious, but I widen my eyes and nod along with them as if this is new information. Then, as if nothing happened, they go back to work on my face, hands, legs, hair, everything. With this newly found peace inside my head, I sway into sleep at some points, only to be awoken by another hair follicle being ripped out from its place. I wonder if Demere is going through the same torture I am.

He's been acting strange lately. Quite protective in a way that only Finnick would try to be. When the Careers glared at us in the training center, he would glare right back and put a gentle hand at my waist. It's as if Demere has been guarding me from them, as if he cares about my well-being. I try not to feel the same way towards him, though. Soon, we will be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. What happens then? Do we skip into the sunset and pretend that the blood doesn't stain our shoes? We will be slapped with the inevitable, and obligated to deal with it. I can't go through that and win for Finnick if we are anything farther than acquaintances.

Maybe he's tricking me. Maybe Demere has been playing me this whole time. Maybe it's all an act. It does seem strange; he joined in alliance with the Careers, they denied my partnership, and he leaves with me. Who in their right mind would leave a tight alliance with the Careers just to make a weak one with me? Maybe that's it. Maybe he never left the alliance and he's just been trying to gain my trust. Demere? Little innocent Demere would never do such a thing. The boy's only sixteen, and with me two years ahead, he wouldn't dare try to accomplish such a risky move. That's what he wants me to think. _Don't write him off as weak, Annie. He's already playing the Game, _the silky voice says in my head again.

"Finally," one of the stylists says from the side of me.

They all gather in a line in front of me, looking at their masterpiece.

"Stand up and turn around for us," she orders.

I do as she says, pleasing all of them as my new silver toenails make contact with the floor. I stand slowly, and turn. Their reaction makes me giggle; they squeal with pleasure. I've never heard them be so content with me. The man even claps slightly as my hair comes into full view. As I turn my head to see the reflection in the mirror, the littlest one grabs my chin.

"No, no. Don't look until you have the dress on silly."

I look down at her small frame and smile slightly, "Where is Camilia?"

The door behind us opens suddenly, and out comes my head stylist. Her straight blue hair has been tightly pulled back to a ponytail, but other than that, nothing has changed. Her tight black uniform is still perfectly tailored to her body, and her cheekbones still stand high on her oval purple face.

"I'm right here, and just in time I see," Camilia says as she walks towards me immediately. She strokes my cheek with a tender finger, as if admiring the work her assistants had done.

She gives an approving nod, "The hair turned out perfect, as did the shimmering powder." She turns to her team and smiles big, "Congratulations! This is some of your best work. Go and celebrate."

The pleasure on all of their faces make me smile as well. It's as if the only goal in life they want to accomplish was getting Camilia's approval. They leave, still squealing with delight.

"They told me I couldn't look," I say as they shut the door.

Camilia smiles and grabs a black bag hanging by a hanger, "And they were right. You cannot see a painting until it is completely finished. Now close your eyes and lift your hands."

I do as she says, and feel a silky fabric slip on over my shoulders. Then, another heavier layer is put on over that. I keep my eyes closed.

I can feel her straightening the bottom of the dress and dusting some more powder onto my shoulders, "You know, we are still going with the pearl theme. Even this powder is made up of crushed pearls to give it that shimmer in the light."

"Why did you go with pearls?" I ask.

"Because, on the outside, an oyster is so ugly. It's undesirable, and a mystery. Then suddenly, you find a pearl! I guess it symbolizes that there is always beauty in everybody. You just have to find their pearl," she finishes her dusting and taps my nose with her finger. "Like you, my dear. Open your eyes."

I open them and look at the person in the mirror. No, this couldn't be me, could it? A long silver dress drapes to the floor. It shimmers every time I breathe. Outlining the bottom and top of it are small pearls. My skin has been transformed into an array of dim stars. Dusted everywhere are the crushed pearls that glisten off my skin like the moon reflecting off the sea. My eyes give off the same affect. Pearls of different sizes are scattered across the top of my head, and trail downward with the fresh curls that cascade down to my waist. This is not Annie Cresta. This is someone different looking back at me.

"Who is this?" I ask silently.

I can see Camilia smile in the mirror, "It's you."

She says some more things, but my heartbeat once again overpowers my hearing sense. She lightly pushes me from the middle of my back and leads me down the hallway. I stare blindly forward, my nerves washing through my mind like a tidal wave at the last minute.

"…and I must wish you good luck, my dear," Camilia's voice finally breaks through.

I turn to her, "Thank you for everything."

She nods, "Of course my little pearl."

She walks back down the hallway, leaving me stranded. I hear muffled voices and walk towards them, my fingers knotting themselves together with nerves. I finally make my way to the line of tributes awaiting their interview. Only few are talking, most just glare ahead of them. I can't find Demere, which sort of sets me off balance, but I make it to my spot in line anyway. The District 3 boy stands in front of me, his LED lighted suit blinding my eyes.

"You know if we get enough of us, we will be just as strong as them, Larissa," I hear him whisper from behind me. My ears strain to hear more.

"There…not enough…need…more." I can only make out so much from where I stand. Larissa, the District 3 tribute I assume, responds quickly and much more quietly than does her district partner.

"We will gain more people once we get in that Arena, I promise," he's begging her now.

"Argo, you… quiet…together…one of us…victors." I give up on listening in anymore. Her quiet words are too few to make sense of now.

Curiosity still lingers in my mind, though. Are these two making a large alliance? And who is this "them" that the will be just as strong as? Probably the careers. They honestly think they can conjure up an alliance that has a chance at beating out the Careers. The boy, Argo, is more hopeful than she is. More like she is smarter than him. The girl, Larissa, is right. They will never have enough people to compete with the Careers.

"Annie," a low voice says from behind me. I turn my head to find Finnick, and my heart instantly flutters. He motions me to follow him, and I do. We walk down the hallway, and he grabs my wrist suddenly. He kicks a door from the right open, and pulls me inside. A dim light illuminates the small space.

"Finnick, I haven't been able to see-"

He silences me with a kiss. It starts out light, bringing little fireworks dancing into the corners of my vision. Then, it deepens. His hands slip to my back and presses me against him. There is no space between us. We are one. We could stay like this forever, our hearts beating in perfect unison, but he breaks away, leaving our foreheads pressed together.

"I just needed to do that before you went up there, Annie," he says after a while. He pushes a curled strand of hair behind my ear, and smiles.

"I'm so scared," I say like a child, and burrow into his arms.

"Now, why would you be scared?" he starts, smoothing my back with his palm, "How could anybody hate you? I don't see how that's a possibility."

"What if I say the wrong thing?" I mutter.

"Don't you worry about a thing, okay? You'll be fine."

"You have to say that."

"And why do I have to do that?" he asks, lifting my chin up to meet his eyes.

"Because you're my Finnick." I say with a smile.

He kisses the tip of my nose, "Correct. I am yours," he leans in to whisper into my ear, "forever."

"Can I just stay here with you?"

"Don't be silly, Annie. I would love for that to be possible, but look at you. I don't want such a beautiful masterpiece to go to waste."

I blush lightly and hit him playfully in the arm, "Stop being so charming."

He opens the door, and we walk back to the line. A few stare at us, curiosity seeping through their glances. I take my spot back in line, and give a friendly smile to Demere. He looks nervous. I'm not the one to judge though, I probably look nervous too.

Finnick looks at both of us, "Good luck out there you two. Just be yourselves."

We both nod in thanks. And with a turn of his heels, Finnick leaves us.

I look at Demere and smile politely, "We can do this."

He smiles back, "Well, at least you can."

And the show begins. Caesar is in his star patterned suit. His eyes, lips, and hair have been dyed a powder pink shade for this year. He starts with the same words he always does and the District 1 girl, Jewel, practically skips on the stage. Her fiery red hair goes well in contrast to her gold dress. Then comes her tribute partner, Mars, and the District 2 tributes, Isis and Lucius. They don't show any sign of nerves and charm the Capitol with only a few words. I don't know how I will be able to compete with any of that, but I don't show any sign of doubt as Argo steps onto the stage.

_I'm next, _I think to myself. _My turn. _

Argo's timer dings and he is escorted off of the stage. One of the assistants leads me up.

"And now, mentored by our beloved Finnick Odair, the District 4 female tribute Annabeth Cresta!"

For some reason, the crowd roars louder than for any other tribute. I guess Finnick's name got them excited. And as I step on the stage, the large spotlight blinds my vision. A quick moment of silence falls over the audience as they take in my image, and they explode even louder than before. I try to walk in a straight line to Ceaser's pink eyes, and I succeed, thanking the half hour Asteria spent with me to learn how to walk in these death traps. I just make it to Caesar before I slightly trip on the front of my dress, making the audience laugh in response. I sit down on the comfortable couch and cross my legs just how Finnick taught me. My shoulders stretch back as well, my cheeks burning from smiling so long.

The audience soothes down, only a little muffled muttering can be heard. I make eye contact with Camilia and Finnick sitting next to each other in the audience. I relax a little at the sight of them and there reassuring gaze.

Caesar clears his throat, "Annabeth, before I start, do you have another name you go by?"

I giggle, showing off my innocence, "Annie is what everybody at home calls me."

He nods, "Annie it is then. Now Annie, how lucky are you to have the Famous Finnick Odair to mentor you? A million ladies would kill for that position!" The crowd bursts into applause as soon as his name is mentioned.

"Well, I am pretty lucky. I guess that is, if he was actually good," I say between laughter. The camera cuts to Finnick, who does a shocked face into a camera. The audience eats it up.

Caesar plays along, "He isn't a good mentor?"

"No way. He's too much of a pretty boy," I say with a smile.

Another cut to Finnick, who tousles his hair out of his face, nodding in approval. The sound of the audience brings the floor to a slight rumble.

Caesar clears his throat again, and the audience settles down. "But really Annie, what kind of a mentor is our Finnick?"

_Just be honest,_ "He's the best! What more can I say?"

Caesar smiles and looks to Finnick, "Is he a big flirt like he usually is?"

"Let's just say this: if the pig we had for dinner last night was wearing a skirt, Finnick would probably try to get its' number."

Another loud laugh, "Now going into the arena, what kind of things can we expect from you?"

I shrug humbly, "I guess I don't even know the answer to that. We will all have to wait and see."

Caesar chuckles, "A mystery, I like it. Now who do you have watching you back at home?"

"Well, my friend Idelia is over there," I say.

"A certain special someone we should know about?"

I bite my tongue at the urge to spill about Finnick, and I almost do. Thank goodness I make eye contact with him, and ever so slightly, he shakes his head. _No, don't do it._

I copy him and shake my head, "Nope, no one on that level of specialty."

"Well I just assumed, because you're so beautiful. I mean look at your dress, your hair. Your stylist must be very proud."

"Oh please, she's amazing. I come in looking like a pile of seaweed, and come out looking like…a pearl. She's the best at what she does."

A light applause is given for Camilia, who beams with pride.

"Now what about your parents, Annie? Are they excited back at home?"

My heart sinks to my stomach, "I-I don't have any."

The audience falls completely silent. "What do you mean?"

I clear my throat as tears threaten to come, "I mean, my parents died. My mother died in child birth and my father died of heart failure."

"Oh my, such a shame my dear. On behalf of the Capitol, we give our most sincere regrets." Caesar's voice really sounds upset, as if he actually cares.

I nod, smiling only a little, "Thank you, thank you everyone."

"And we also hope all of the odds are in your favor tomorrow. Everyone will be watching."

"Thank you," I say with a smile.

"No, thank you."

Then, my timer goes off. The lights are turned away from my face, and Finnick waits for me offstage. Arms open, he envelops me into a hug; the tears silently escaping and staining his shirt.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7- Goodbyes **

"That's the thing about pain- It demands to be felt." John Green, _The Fault in Our Stars_

Finnick's P.O.V

Insomnia is an understatement to what I felt last night. Annie's tears didn't stop flowing until she drifted into sleep. And even then, drops of sorrow still flowed from her eyes. Curious things-tears. At our state of deepest pain do we eject small portions of water from our eyes. I haven't felt the familiar sting of saltwater in a long while. The last time I let myself spiral down that path was when Annie was chosen for the Games. Before that, I hadn't cried in four years. I can't comprehend why, though. I guess my mind and body both accepted the deep emptiness I felt and, instead of feeling a constant sense of regret and pain, decided to grow around it.

Annie sleeps silently against my chest as the sun makes its reappearance through the window. Her innocent face is decorated by a new stream of light, shining across her hair. Today's the day this face, this picture of innocence, gets put through the worst of torture. Frankly, I don't know how she can go through so much death. My Annie is so fragile; how will she handle the blood, the pain, the bodies? It'll rip through her like a hurricane if my assumptions are correct. It'll tear her into pieces, and deform her mindset permanently.

I wish I could go in with her. Though the majority of my nightmares are harnessed in the exact place she's going, I would still sacrifice my sanity for the assurance of her survival. I don't know how I will do it, nonetheless Annie going through it. How can we both do it? Suddenly, a wave of burning selfishness washes through me. Why should I be worrying about my feelings? My own thoughts mean nothing at the moment. The only thing that matters is Annie and her well-being. So, I swallow down the pit of depression that's sure to capture me soon, and stroke her hair softly.

The peacefulness of the moment is so ironic. This is the time everyone should be running around like bees to a field of flowers. I do hear some muffled footsteps from behind the door and down the narrow hallway as they begin to echo. I turn my head to the chrome, spherical clock on the bedside table and cringe at the time: 6:30 a.m.

That stupid mentor meeting is in half an hour. I don't understand why we have to go to the same talk every single year. It should really only be a necessity for the new mentors, but the experienced ones are still dragged into it. This is the time that mentors like me should be gaining more and more sponsors for our tribute, but no. We have to waste our time learning about tips and pointers that we are already fully aware of.

I lift Annie's head gently, and lay her down on the soft sheets. She should stay sleeping while she still can. I kiss her lightly on the forehead, change quickly into a brown button up shirt and black pants, and head out the door.

Beth sits down on one of the plush couches in the main room, muttering to herself. I give a polite nod and fill a plate up with food that should help me focus.

"Finnick," a voice whispers from the couch. Beth's wide eyes stare into me, begging for something. I lift my eyebrows, showing her I'm listening. "Come," her frail hand pats the space next to her, and I hesitantly join, leaving my hot plate of food at the table.

"Who is Plutarch Heavansbee?" She whispers. Her eyes dart from left to right, her head angled towards her lap.

"A Gamemaker, I suppose," I say, putting a calming hand on her shoulder. She grabs it and squeezes hard. I wince at her strength.

"War. He's making a war." Her eyes are wider than ever now, digging into mine. Her heart beat is so strong that I can feel it pulsing through our hands. "Trouble. A pit of hell. Death. Blood. War."

She's muttering to herself now, different words and phrases barely made audible. Her eyes go back to darting, her nails breaking the skin of my hand.

"Beth, it'll be okay," I say to her. It's no use.

Her voice grows louder, "People dying. Starvation. Blasts. Explosions."

"How do you know this? Beth?" I say, trying to squeeze out as much information as I can while she's so fragile.

"He asked. I don't want to die," she says, tears welling up from the ridges of her eyes.

"Resist it, Beth. Resist the madness," I whisper into her ear. Her eyes shut, wrinkling on the edges. Her hand goes slack, releasing mine.

Her chapped lips whispers one word, "Go."

I don't hesitate to leave. Taking a roll of bread before I turn away from the room, I look at her again. Her hands are closed around each other, squeezing the other with so much force, that the knuckles turn pale.

A louder voice escapes from her, "Go!"

"And remember, your tribute is a representation of not only yourself, but your district. Make sure he or she is only a source of pride for those things," the chubby man in front of us says.

"From what I've heard so far, Annie fits that description," Johanna whispers.

I smile and nod. The roll from this morning is still packed into my hand. I haven't been able to eat since the episode with Beth. It's like somebody was controlling her. Like she was a robot with a shortage.

"Hey, your hands are bleeding." Johanna takes the bread out of its place and examines the nail marks Beth left behind.

The meeting comes to an end. Finally. It took two hours to say the sentence "Control your tribute." I sigh loudly, getting up and pulling my hand from Johanna's grasp. My eyes dart to a clock. 9:00, it reads. No, not nine o'clock. They said the meeting would be over an hour ago! The Hovercraft that all the tributes load onto is launched in fifteen minutes! I can't make it all the way over there in fifteen minutes! But I have to say goodbye, or I have to try.

"It's fine. Just a little scratch." I shrug my shoulders as I make a beeline for the exit door.

Johanna calls my name, but I don't turn. I need to see Annie. Each clock that I walk by laughs at me.

_You won't do it, _they say. _You won't be able to say goodbye. _

I should have left her a note. I'm an idiot. I can't make it to the hovercraft in fifteen minutes. She'll be scared to death.

My feet quicken in pace underneath me, and I realize I'm sprinting. The hallways still somehow seem familiar from four years ago when I traversed down the same path. I blindly push people out of the way, pretending not to hear their loud exclamations of fury.

A deep voice comes over the loudspeaker, "Tributes to be loaded onto the hovercraft in five minutes. Mentors, please remain cautious of the runway."

Nobody could keep me from Annie at this moment. I need to see her face, her eyes, the smile that twists my heart into different shapes. I need to see that. If I don't, my mind will deteriorate just as Beth's did. I need to see her. What scares me most and what burns into my thoughts is that this may be the last time I have the chance to say goodbye.

I can see the hovercraft now, down the hallway. Two doors stand open, a cold breeze brushing its way past me from the open entrance. I can see it now, tributes entering the large aircraft slowly.

"Tributes, collect in the hovercraft," the automated voice comes over yet again.

The doors, the only chance of me ever seeing Annie again, start to close.

In an act of pure desperation, I yell, "ANNIE!"

To my surprise, a smooth voice answers me, "Finnick?"

I stop, my heels screeching against the floor as I come to a complete halt. I turn around, my breathing uneven.

"Finnick? What's wrong?" Her curious eyes scan me for any sign of abnormality.

I grin, taking a sigh, "Annie."

She walks up to me, eyebrows knitted in frustration, "I thought you had forgotten."

I shake my head, and hug her close, "You'll be fine, Annie. Find a source of water, get a backpack, and I'll take care of the rest." I let her go and cup her face in my hands, "Hide in the corner of the arena if you have to, you don't have the luxury to take risks out there. Be safe, and you'll stay safe, okay?"

She nods, her eyes moistening. I'm surprised to feel mine water as well. I build a dam in my mind, not letting the wave of sorrow wash over me.

"It will only be for a few days, and you'll come back. You'll come back," I repeat.

She grabs my wrists with her hands, bringing our heads closer together. "I love you," she whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I close my eyes, "Forever and always."

"Tributes, take your seats." The voice echoes down the hallway.

Annie releases me and turns on her heels. Before she makes it to the doors, now barely open, her head turns to me. Her eyes filled with desperation as she scans for my approval. I nod once, and she copies.

The doors shut behind her. The gates to the dam in my mind open. The wave rushes through me.

We will win. We have to win.


	9. Chapter 8

**N/A: I am so sorry I haven't updated lately. School is over, but I am preparing for high school and getting things ready. My sister has also been sick, so that also affects my updating. So thank you to all of you who have reviewed. I must say that I am really glad you all have liked the story so much! Finnick is adorable, isn't he? I want a Finnick. Where can I buy my Finnick? ANYWAY, so here we are, the cornucopia battle. The bloodiest part of the book basically. Okay I'm going to make a little microscopic alteration to the storyline. Instead of Annie being with the careers, as Suzanne Collins wrote, she's going to have a different twist of fate. Don't kill me. I'm talking to you Cato. **

** Thanks again for being so understanding. I hate growing up. Please review or rate or (if you want cookies) both! **

**Chapter 8- The First Battle of War**

Annie's P.O.V

"Tributes, one minute to launch," the familiar mechanical voice announces.

My heartbeat pounds through my ears as I zip the leather jacket on. It's a snug fit, but after a couple of seconds of wearing it, I feel my body heat multiply and my toes warm over. The tight cargo pants I wear let the slight draft of the room break right through the thin material. Underneath the jacket, both a tank top and a tight long sleeved shirt layer my skin. I wiggle my toes to make sure the knee-high leather boots are slightly broken in.

"They said these tones would blend in to your surroundings," Camilia says as she adjusts the heavy jacket.

I nod. My hair is split into two different braids that fall under my shoulder blades. The tight braiding Camilia did starts at the top and trails down.

"Is this your token?" She asks, as she slightly lifts the sleeve from my wrist.

I look down, and see the old shell bracelet Finnick made me. It's worn-in now. I haven't taken it off since he gave it to me after his reaping. For four years, I have worn this thing. My little thirteen year old self accepted the gift. I barely noticed it was still there and attached because I wore it so much. I suppose it should be my token, especially since Finnick is so present in the oddly shaped shells.

"I guess so, it reminds me of home," I say silently. My voice wavers and I blush; I shouldn't look weak.

Camilia's turquoise hand rests on my cheek, "You're coming home."

I nod and fake a smile.

"Tributes, ten seconds to launch."

Camilia's eyes glaze over with, what I assume, are tears as I make my way to the see-through tube.

"Annie," Camilia says as the door starts to close. I turn around, "Remember who you are in there."

And with that, the tube is sealed off. I give a curt nod in her direction, promising on those words. I guess I should be nervous, but it hasn't sunk in yet. Even when the sun suddenly blinds me, my senses numb. I freeze over. My body becomes a shell and my mind races at lightning speed.

A strange mix of pine and salt water attack my nose. I look around and my heart sinks. The 23 other tributes surround me, as expected, and the cornucopia stands tall and overflowing with supplies. I look to the ground. Wet, thin grass spreads unevenly throughout, what I assume, the whole arena. The sky to the left is gray, rain clouds rumbling in the distance. To the right, the arena seems to end abruptly. It's as if there was a design flaw. It doesn't end in a curve as the other side does, and halfway down the wall, it turns black.

In front of me are thick oak trees scattered here and there. Plenty of space separates them. There's hardly any coverage.

My eyes scan the field in front of me. About five feet in front of me is a bundle of rope, and behind that is a box of matches. Useless. I look farther and spot a glimmering spear alongside a sheath of knives. Useful. Could I dart over there quickly enough to retrieve them? Am I taking on more than I can chew? I dart my eyes to the District 1 boy, Mars, who has also been eyeing my weapons. He doesn't notice my glance, but Demere does. He stands next to him. He meets my eyes and crooks his head to the right. _Run this way,_ he seems to say.

Overhead, crackling of thunder shakes the arena. Slowly but surely, drops of cold water prick my skin. As if someone pressed a button, which they probably did, waves of rain begin to pummel the ground, soaking all of us immediately. Fortunately, our jackets keep out most of the water, but fighting in such conditions is going to be a challenge.

I look at the countdown. 30 seconds left. What am I going to do? _Get a hold of yourself_,a voice intrudes my thoughts. _And while you're at it, get that backpack next to the matches too. _

I look over at the matchbox again. The rain has soaked the little thing by now. A little more to the left is a plump backpack. Its contents seem to fill it almost completely. _I need a weapon, _I think to the voice.

_ Looks like you're going to have to kill for one, princess. _

I gulp down a new lump in my throat as my strategy presents itself. My hands clench themselves at my sides. Could these hands kill? They are going to have to learn how.

10, 9, 8, 7….

I ready myself on my tiny pedestal and make contact with Demere once again.

6, 5, 4…

My heartbeat rattles my chest and my hands get clammy. I could die. A swift knife to the head, three second throw, and I'd be gone. My life would be over.

3, 2, 1.

The gong booms over the 24 of us. My feet work faster than my mind as I jump off my pedestal. My feet squish into the mud, sucking my boots in. With newly found strength in my legs, I get used to the terrain and learn to run through it.

"Get everything you can Lucius, we are going to need it." The boy from 1 barks his order to the boy from 2, Lucius, as they run to the Cornucopia.

I don't know how, but I beat them there. I guess it's my size that gives me a faster pace at running. My feet start to move mechanically as I grab the backpack in my hand and swing it over my shoulder. I stop for a brief second to look for Demere and make sure he's made it this far.

I lose my guard for five seconds. My mistake.

The girl from one jumps at me from behind. I don't know why she decides to attack me without a weapon, but I don't hesitate to fight back. Her legs attach at my hips with a strangling grip around my neck with one hand. The other hand rips at my hair, bending my neck back as if it was rubber. Before she can have the satisfaction of breaking the bone, I fall back to the ground with her body to cushion my fall. She whimpers as my weight impacts her against the hard ground. I hear two bones crack.

Her hands become loose from their deadly hold on me and I grab my backpack again. I can barely see ten feet ahead of me through this heavy rain. I bring myself to my feet and run to the spear and knives that, oddly enough, haven't been taken yet. Just as I bend down to retrieve the spear, a hand clamps on my shoulder and shoves me down to the ground.

The force brings white spots in my vision as I see the boy from 1, Mars, towering over me. He lifts his new sword up to bring it to my throat. I try to wiggle out from underneath him, but his large feet are on either side of me. The mud makes it even harder to move, capturing me in its hold.

"Anything you want me to tell Finnick when I head back to the Capitol?" he asks in a teasing voice.

I don't know how, but my hand makes contact with the hilt of something. I don't let him see what I have acquired, but I take a glance down. A mace. Those things are heavy as hell. When he starts to bring down the point of the sword, however, adrenaline numbs my mind and brings the heavy mace crashing to the boy's shin. He yells out in pain and brings his weight down to his good knee. I don't stop there. I tumble on top of him, grab a knife, and slash at his right arm, the one he uses for spear throwing. Blood oozes out of the deep wound that travels from his elbow to the tip of his pointer finger.

But I don't want to kill him. Not yet.

Instead, I take this moment to look around, and catch Demere's silhouette running to grab a smaller pack of his own. Mars wriggles from underneath my body, but is too weak to force any movement out of me.

_Kill him you weakling. Kill him or be killed _by _him. _

I force the familiar voice out of my mind and I stuff my backpack with the knives I wanted. Carrying my new spear in one hand, I leave Mars in a state of weakness that I'll probably never get to see again. Anybody else would surely kill him, especially with his size and skill. But the cut on his arm and deadly wound on his shin will surely infect his bloodstream if he isn't careful. And he won't be careful.

I run to Demere who has gotten himself into a feud with the girl from District 8. I take my knife, and without even hesitating, throw it at the back of her head. It makes full impact, sinking deep within the skull, and she falls dead.

_I just killed someone. _

_ Better get used to it, Princess_, the voice responds.

Demere stands shocked as he takes in what I've just done. For a moment, fear flashes across his eyes. My heart drops at the sudden thought that Demere could be scared of me. But, to my surprise, a smirk of pride forms on his lips and he grabs his pack.

"Let's get out of here," he says, looking over my shoulder.

I bend down and grab a sword from the girl's hand and shove it into Demere's.

"Use it," I say shortly, and run into the trees ahead.

Cries of pain and suffering slowly become muffled as Demere and I run. We don't talk, we don't take breaks, we just run. The rain seems to settle down the farther we run away from the cornucopia. I don't know where we're going, but Demere looks like he does. I know I shouldn't trust him so much. I should be more guarded and not let him break down my fragile wall. Odds are one of us is going to be dead in the span of a few weeks.

After an hour or so of sprinting, Demere stops. He drops his pack and sword and slumps down against a tree. His breathing is uneven, and he looks surprisingly pale. Now that we've stopped, I feel my own bones turn weak. I pick a tree across from the boy and sit against my own.

Through his slit eyes, Demere looks at me intently. His glance is questioning, as if he's thinking about something.

"What?" I say impatiently, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirks, "You just ran in there. You just ran in there like it was nothing."

"Why are you so surprised?" I ask as I unzip my backpack.

"You didn't seem like the 'run into the cornucopia' kind of girl."

"Yeah, well I needed stuff and I got it." He smiles as I empty the contents of my backpack on the ground.

A bundle of wire, two sticks of dynamite, matches, crackers, a pot of rice, tin foil, and a bottle filled with water come tumbling out. The dynamite is what catches my eye. I've never seen a tribute get this kind of weapon before. I've never used anything like this. I look up at Demere and his eyes widen. He crawls over to me and takes a stick.

"No way," he says as he inspects the thing. "This will come in handy."

I grab it out of his hand, "Are you kidding? We can't use these!"

"Why not?" he protests, "Do you know how many we can eliminate with just one?"

"Do you also know how loud they are? Setting one of these off is like sending a signal to everybody and letting them know where we are."

"There won't be anyone to listen if we use them right."

I stop at that. His use of words takes me by surprise. He's never said anything like that before.

I swallow before continuing in a more soothing tone, "Demere, these things are more dangerous than you realize. I still don't get why they gave it to us, but we have to be careful. If we get desperate, then we will use them. Deal?"

"Yeah, whatever," he says, crawling back to his tree.

He unzips his own backpack and empties the contents.

_ Boom. _

I look up in shock as I realize the familiar sound of a cannon. The blood bath must be over. I count the sounds on my fingers as they go by.

Nine.

It's a low number, but I guess Mars and the girl from one wouldn't have been able to go on as long with the wounds I gave them. I smile as I think of the careers having to fight without them. They must think of themselves as useless, all by my doing.

"How many did you count?" Demere asks, rummaging through his pack.

"Nine."

"Only nine? Jeez, I was expecting more like twelve. Mars must have not gotten a sword."

"No, he got one. He just couldn't use it," I say proudly.

Demere shakes his head in disbelief, "I'm beginning to like this alliance."

"Yeah," I say. "Me too."


	10. Chapter 9

**N/A- Hi everyone! Thanks for your continued support. I recently finished the book Divergent, and let's just say it took maybe two days for me to finish. It was amazing! So I'm thinking of making another story based off of that book. Also, I think I'm going to make this story have more consistent updating. So, every Thursday at 10:00 P.M (Central Time) you should be expecting a new chapter! I may be tardy in upcoming updates though, because I am filming an Independent Film soon (kinda freaking out). Yadda yadda yadda...blahblahblah...**

**I love you guys! Here is the next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! (Any critics please PM me about) **

Chapter 9- The Beast

Annie's P.O.V

Darkness scares me. No, it's not the darkness, it's the unanswerable question of what's inside it. So when I see the sun break over the horizon of the arena, my heart warms. A full night in the arena and I still live.

Demere looks peaceful when he sleeps. He and I switched as look out last night so that we could sleep soundly. We stand far away from the career camp, but the more distance we can get between us and them, the better chance we have.

It was difficult looking for a good place to rest. As we ran farther from the Cornucopia, the mud turned into soil and the trees multiplied in numbers. Demere couldn't climb trees, so we had to hope for the best and camp on the ground. He sleeps to the left of me, one hand holding the sword I got for him yesterday.

We need to keep moving. More people are going to span out into the arena and odds are they'll run into us. Demere has had enough sleep, at least two times what I got. We need to hunt and move.

_Now you're thinking like a tribute_, the silky voice says.

I clench my hands. This voice has to go away. One day in the arena and my sanity is already slipping out of my grasp. I can't put a name to the voice yet, but it does seem familiar. It scares me to think that I'm slowly walking towards madness and can't put a stop to it. The image of my knife sinking into the girl from 8 already haunted me in my nightmare last night. I can't seem as vulnerable as I am. This is what drives me to shake Demere quite violently until his eyes open.

"Jeez Annie, I'm awake," he says with a frown.

"We can't sleep all day. Get up," I demand.

He yawns. "Somebody is a bit cranky this morning."

"Yes well, I didn't get four solid hours of sleep."

"I told you to wake me up when you needed to rest!"

He slowly stands and takes a swig of water from his bottle.

"Forget it. I'm fine. But if you keep drinking that water, it'll be empty until we find another source to fill it."

"We'll find one, Annie." He puts a light hand on my shoulder, "It's all going to be okay."

His sympathetic eyes bring me to a stop. Demere's hand squeezes ever so slightly until he puts it back to his side. Maybe I am being a bit too harsh. I don't want him to fear me, and after him witnessing my first bloody kill yesterday, I should be thankful he didn't run away from me then.

I sigh, "Sorry. Let's just get as far away from here as quickly as possible."

Demere nods as I loop my arms through my backpack.

"Maybe we can pick up some food today?" he asks from behind me.

I smile. "Yeah, I think the local bakery should be opening in a couple minutes. We can pick up something there."

He laughs. "Don't make me hungrier."

"Let's just be as quiet as we can. And if we run into something, we'll get it."

We're silent for a while before he speaks again.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" he asks.

I answer honestly, "No."

He sighs. "Well let's hope we aren't walking into a trap then."

I stop walking and turn around to face him. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that not everybody stopped for the night. I think a couple of them are ahead of us. These people are smart, and they probably set something up."

"What do you think we should do then? We can't go back to the Cornucopia because the Careers are there," I say.

Demere shrugs. "The Cornucopia has the only supplies in the Arena. If we need a weapon, or food, what will we do?"

I turn back around, facing forward. "We can't go back there. They know how strong we are and will kill us as soon as they see us."

I sense he's smiling behind me, "You mean they know how strong _you_ are." He waits for a reaction, and continues without one. "Annie, you were amazing yesterday. Where did that even come from?"

I shrug and stay silent. He continues, "Well, whatever it was is the only reason I'm alive right now. You know you saved my life, right?"

I shake my head and mutter silently, "You would've done the same for me."

He walks faster to stand beside me as we tread deeper into the forest. "Yeah, but Annie, you _threw a knife_. And it landed right where you aimed it, in the back of her head-"

"Don't. Just stop. Please, Demere," I silently plead.

He looks up at me then, seeing how the memory pains me. Shocked at my reaction, he nods and stays silent.

Maybe one day in this Arena will be too much for me after all.

* * *

"They have to put a water source in here somewhere! If they didn't, we'll all be dead in a matter of days!" Demere cries.

"Calm down, it's got to be around here somewhere."

"Calm down? How can I calm down when we only have half a water bottle left and it's only the first day?"

"Demere, you have got to be quiet. Unless you _want_ to scare away all of the game in a fifty yard radius, you have to shut up," I whisper.

He lowers his voice, but doesn't stop complaining. "But Annie, what are we going to do when we run out of water?"

"Sponsors," I say shortly. Hopefully Finnick paid attention to that.

Finnick.

My heart falls as his name registers in my mind. Guilt washes over me as I realize I haven't thought of him once this entire time. He's, of course, always present in my thoughts, but I haven't formed a thought of him or his well-being since we launched into the tubes.

Is he proud of me? He must be after yesterday. Then again, he might be _ashamed_ of me because of yesterday. He might be _ashamed_ that I killed that girl without a second thought. He might be _ashamed_ that I ran right into the battle. Suddenly, the invisible cameras around me become very taunting. Finnick is watching right now. Finnick is watching. I have to make him proud. My shoulders go back automatically and I wipe the strands of hair from my eyes. When we find this water source, I should rinse off the mud and blood from my face. Might as well look as good as I possibly can.

"Annie? Annie, are you even listening to me?"

I snap back from my daze to find Demere standing in front of me.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

He rolls his eyes and smirks. "I said that you shouldn't get your hopes up for sponsors on my end. I didn't impress them as much as you did. But we do need to keep moving, look behind you."

I turn my head slowly, and my eyes widen in surprise. Dark black clouds roll towards us at an unnatural pace. Strikes of lightning erupt within them, at least three at a time. Each time they spark in the sky, the sound of shattering glass emits from it. This is not some simple rainstorm like yesterday. This is something made by the Capitol. And as one lightning strike comes through the clouds in a blood red color, I know this will be deadly.

Suddenly, a thought lights in my mind.

"Demere! Don't you see? _That_," I point to the rolling thunder, "is our water source!"

He looks past my finger to the storm in the distance. A crooked smile slowly stretches across his face.

"Brilliant."

"Do you still have that clear wrap from your pack?" I ask. He nods and hands it to me.

"But don't we still need to keep moving?" he asks.

"Yes, but let's set up some water traps and come back to them when the storm stops."

He laughs. "Water traps?"

I can't help but smile too. "Got a better name?"

He shakes his head, still smiling. "Let's just set them up."

And with that, I give him instructions. It's simple really; you just dig a hole in the ground, line it with clear wrap, put a rock on the bottom so that the water trickles down, and weigh down the loose edges on top. I tell him to spread out so that we can have more distance and no one will be suspicious.

After making five in one spot, I decide I should move on. This is the last patch. The wind has started to pick up, and I can hear the echo of rain pattering in the distance. I stand up from my crouch to stretch my back, and look around. I catch sight of Demere's golden hair in the distance. I loop my arms through my backpack and walk over to him. We should definitely find some shelter.

"Alright Demere, I think we should move on or maybe-"

As I shove the branch that's blocking myself from him, I stop in my tracks. The stench of the thing in front of me leaches into my nostrils and I try not to gag. My eyes widen in shock as the hairy beast in front of me growls. In any other situation, I would have either run as fast as my feet could carry me or get my weapon. But what paralyzes me is that not only do I smell its odor, but the copper scent of blood. Its back is to me, crouching down over something. A thin blood trail meets my boots from whatever the thing is feasting upon.

_Demere. _

"No," I whisper aloud. I clasp a hand over my mouth as I realize my mistake. The beast turns to face me, and it takes everything in me to keep my scream inside.

To anyone else who sees it from afar, it looks like a gorilla with blonde hair, but I know better. Its eyes are blood red with a green pupil in the middle. Its teeth overlap his bottom lip and curve until they meet the middle of his neck. This is not a regular animal. This is a mutt. No doubt that the poison that drips from the fangs of the beast could kill you without proper treatment.

I catch sight of the prey at its feet and breathe a sigh of relief. The long red hair that is all that remains intact is not Demere's. Immediately I regret looking at the poor girl. The small amount of food I had today crawls up my throat to make a reappearance as I look at her mauled figure.

My body is numb as the animal moves closer to me, its stench growing in power with each step. My brain registers one and only command.

_Run. _

And to my surprise, I do. I turn around immediately, and curse as I twist my ankle in the process. I keep on running, though. I hesitate to scream Demere's name as I run far from where I left him. I can't run too far. I'm going to have to confront this beast sooner or later. It's a robot, in a way. It won't stop running until _it_ lays dead or I do.

Fortunately, one of my knives is still in my pocket as I duck under a thick branch. I turn my head to focus on my target. I take in a sharp breath as I find the beast only two feet away. One reach of its claws, and my back would be in shreds. In a sudden wave of panic, I throw my knife blindly.

It emits a cry of anger from behind me. I don't know how I'm not tripping over the roots at my feet. I haven't even looked to the ground since I started running. I steal a quick glance behind me and am proud to see the thing has retreated a foot or two, and its eye is now replaced with a bloody and empty socket.

_Crack_.

The sound comes from above me. I look up and stop dead in my tracks as a branch the size of my body comes crashing down in front of me, blocking my one and only track. Now I'm forced to confront the animal sooner than I wanted to.

_Congrats, Gamemakers,_ I think sarcastically. _You're going to get a show now. _

The animal grunts behind me and, to my satisfaction, seems out of breath. My ankle screams in pain as I try and put weight. Now that the adrenaline isn't numbing me anymore, the pain is crystal clear. With a shaky hand, I grab a knife from my pack and clench it tightly, waiting for the thing to attack.

In the back of my mind, I wonder where Demere is. I suddenly fear that he might have had the same fate that the red headed girl did. However, I didn't hear his cannon. But as the mutt lunges forward, all thoughts cease. I slice at its arm, and it cries out in surprise. The limb goes limp at its side, so I must have sliced some sort of nerve, paralyzing the thing.

I better have the upper hand at the next lunge, so _I_ am the one that charges. Knife out, aimed for its throat, I sprint. He simply swings its head as I come close, and crushes his skull with mine. The world is white for a second. I stamp my feet in the ground, determined not to black out at the face of this killing machine. A warm liquid runs down behind my left ear, and I cringe. Blood. My blood.

The beast makes a blood curdling scream as it lurches towards me. I can't move, or else I'll black out for sure. My only resort is to lift my arms to cover my face. This is my only defense. Its talons pierce my side as it lifts me off my feet and throws me against a hard oak tree. It's as if I weighed no more than a rag doll. My shoulder screams in agony as I slide to the ground.

The voice in my head cries out in protest. _What are you doing? Get up, stupid girl!_

_I can't move,_ I whine.

_Of course you can. Get. Up. _

It takes everything in me to lift my upper half forward. And when I do, bile rises in my throat. The beast in front of me looks amused by my weakness and seems to be waiting for me to stand. It really wants a fight. Might as well give him one while my heart still beats. I focus my strength in my feet and knees. Slowly, but surely, I rise. Leaning my body weight against the tree, a shaky hand gets a third knife from my pack. The ground rumbles from under my feet as the black cloud in the distance releases another round of thunder. This makes my balance falter ever so slightly, and I desperately cling to the tree.

Blood pouring from my sides, ankle and shoulder burning in pain, and my brain doing flips in my skull, I take every ounce of energy I have left, and run one last time towards the animal. Desperately tripping my own two feet, I point my knife forward. I catch the beast off guard. My knife jams into his hairy chest, and he roars in agony. I don't let go. I keep on pushing my knife deeper and deeper into the flesh. Its claws scratch at me, trying to shove me aside. I push harder. As the life starts to drain from the animal's eyes, it grabs my shoulder, and bites down on the skin with full force. I scream as the teeth break through the flesh, and with my other hand, punch the mutt's skull. That's when it goes limp.

I let go of my knife, and pull his teeth out of me. My limbs give out once and for all. I collapse on the ground. The puddle of blood I start to make underneath me warms my body. The sensation is quite comforting.

A voice screams my name, "Annie!"

I stay where I am. It could have been my imagination.

This time, the voice cries in desperation, "Annie!"

I close my eyes. This is how I will die. This is the sensation of a slow death. It's actually not as painful as I would have imagined. My limbs numb over, and my brain goes still. For once in my life, my thoughts cease. I can think freely. What is the last thought I want to have before I die?

The memories comes quickly. Finnick's arms wrapped around me as we dance to the old radio; my father's squeaky old wheelchair; the first time Finnick ever spoke to me; our first kiss; our oasis. President Snow can take away the future, but he cannot take away the past. He cannot touch the memories that I hold so dearly. Those are mine. No, those are Finnick's too. And as long as he and I both have them, we are as strong as ever.

This is what brings my heart to a steady thump. And suddenly, I'm floating in darkness.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10- Life on the Line**

Finnick's P.O.V

I have never felt so helpless in my life. Watching Annie being tortured through a screen is literally painful. My heart twists every time the cameras show her face. I thought if I could handle the blood bath on the first day, I could watch until the end with ease. This was never what I had in mind. The way she fought at the Cornucopia was a shock to everyone. I don't know where she got it, but I'm proud of her. Maybe the whole "look weak" strategy was not the best to pursue. This new plan is better, but definitely more heart wrenching. The more danger she puts herself in, the more risk will follow.

Her fight with the beast completely caught me off guard. Of course it was completely televised- the audience loves that sort of action. The little red headed girl was only the beginning. They had that mutt trained on Annie as soon as they let him in the arena. She was incredibly brave. No one would have faced him like that.

I felt betrayed by Demere. Before Annie started running from the beast, the cameras cut to Demere. He heard the Beast's growling, but instead of warning Annie or calling out to her, he ran away. Just like the coward I knew he was. He couldn't muster up the courage to check to see if Annie was okay. We had made a deal together. He protects her in there, and I protect her out here. His end of the agreement weighs heavier than mine. So if he's too weak to simply check around a tree trunk for Annie's well-being, what am I to do? And that's it. I can't do anything. And that's what's killing me. But sitting here and thinking that to myself over and over isn't benefiting anyone.

So, I researched the mutt. While the rest of the mentors were laughing off the Games like it wasn't a big deal, I broke into one of the Capitol's computers. They were perfectly distracted, so I felt comfortable knocking out a couple security guards. Researching information while your tribute is in the arena is considered cheating. _Since you are all past victors, _they say,_ you should know all there is to being in the arena. It is unfair to use newly acquired knowledge against someone else who may not have had the chance to obtain it._

I figured one little rule break won't hurt anyone, so I continued. A found two things afterwards: First, the beast is a self-producing species of mutt. This means that every time it is killed- or technically when its heart stops beating- it can heal itself. Setting the thing on fire is the only way it won't reproduce. Second, it carries venom that targets into the place of your mind that harvests memories. If you let it travel that far, and usually it takes a total of two days, it will first distort your memories and then erase them all together.

Luckily, I can get the treatment for her. After more researching, I found that the treatment is an injection that kills off the bacteria in the venom. I just need the woman who owns the medicine to be a sponsor, and Annie will be fine. I just have to find her. Hopefully, I can request her presence at the "sponsor to mentor" assembly this afternoon.

Every afternoon, starting the day the Games start, accessible and requested sponsors are available for mentors to meet. It's all a social gathering. If the sponsor likes both you and your tribute, they'll give you an unlimited supply of whatever product they produce. This is where my name comes in handy. As soon as the sponsor finds out who I am, they don't care what tribute I am representing. Although, when it comes with the female sponsors, they take a little bit of _persuading._ It disgusts me to think of myself as a manipulator, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I'll do anything when Annie's life is on the line, especially when my opportunity to save her is so obvious.

I chuckle in disbelief to myself as I head over to the assembly. I have done it. I have figured out a way to help her even when she's incased in a dome, thousands of miles apart from me.

I enter the large ballroom with my "Famous Finnick Odair" smile plastered on. My white button-up shirt is barely serving its purpose as the sides blow behind me. I requested the woman with the treatment to come, and she responded with a yes. I scan the room for her when a small frame jumps in front of me.

"You look so fake," Johanna says as she looks me up and down.

I haven't spoken to her in a while; I've been too busy torturing myself with Annie's Games

I roll my eyes. "Because that's what I am right now."

"Well, you look constipated. Or like you're really happy you're constipated, so you're smiling through it."

I look around nervously. "Will you just let me do my job?"

She shakes her head. "You know we still have things to discuss."

I sigh. She's right. The weight of my invitation to the rebels still sits on my shoulders on top of all of this. But I don't have time to think about anything other than charming those rich-looking ladies in the corner.

I shove her aside. "Later, Johanna."

She steps in front of me again, blocking my path. "No. I am not waiting until _later_. That's what you've said the last-"

"You know what, Jo?" I interrupt. "I can't focus on anything other than Annie right now. She is out there, dying, and I have sat here, watching it. It tortures me. It's hell. And I thought I couldn't do anything about it. But I _can_. I finally can_._ And I am not letting _you_ of all people get in the way of that."

I shove her aside one last time, blind with rage. I don't even know where this all came from. I guess I've bottled up a lot more than I thought I did. Guilt attempts to cloud my mind, but I shove it away. Johanna will understand- she always does.

I walk towards the bar to the left, looking around to see if anybody is looking back. The reason I usually don't come to this thing is because everybody is _always_ looking back. They stare at me like I'm some alien from another world. I just want to scream, "I'm normal!" But I'm not. And they know that. They've heard the stories of what I've been forced to do. That's probably why a couple of the stares I get are mixed with sympathy and the rest with either horror or amazement. This group of people-my colleagues I guess is a good word- know more truth in what I have been forced to become more than anybody.

And that's because half of my clients are in this very room.

A woman walks up to me, Lucinda is her name, with her chest hardly covered. I direct my gaze to meet her eyes, and slap on my smile.

"Ah, Mr. Finnick Odair, haven't seen you around in quite a while," she says. Her voice is dripping with seductive honey as she speaks.

I copy her tone. "Lucinda, I didn't know you would be here."

"But of course! I simply had to come. You know, people don't think about how valuable matches are until they are in the games. And I came hoping to see you."

_Oh, that's right_, I think to myself. _Lucinda is a sponsor representative of that big match company._ It all floods back now. That's how we met. She was the first sponsor that I needed to _persuade_. However, I respect her; she isn't one of my clients.

I run a hand through my hair and flex my muscles ever so slightly, hoping she'll notice. She does.

"Well, lucky you. I usually don't make it to the assemblies," I say smiling. "There are parties downstairs that I'd much rather be in."

I actually hate Capitol parties, that's a lie President Snow forced me to use. I only go to parties with clients when they request it. Whenever I mentor, I either spend my spare time with the list of women Snow has promised my body to, or I spend it glued to the television screen.

"You're quite right. I am lucky to see you," she starts. "Your Annie is very impressive Finnick. You do realize all of our eyes are on her, right?"

"Really? Others have taken notice of her?"

"Oh yes, a group of the other sponsor representatives and I were speaking about her yesterday. The way she faced that thing out there, some of us have only seen it once or twice."

I smile. "So what does that mean, Ms. Lucinda?"

She giggles. "I think that means I am setting up an offer, Mr. Odair."

Unlimited matches. Huh. Not what I wanted. But then again, if that beast continues to form, Annie is going to need fire to burn it to ash.

"I'll accept." I grab her hand and gently place my lips on her silver shaded skin, "Gladly."

"Oh, Finnick. You are such a charmer for such a young boy."

_You have no idea_, I think to myself. "And you, my dear, are like fine wine- only getting better with age. Not to mention more valuable."

She blushes, and lightly places a hand on my forearm. "Anything else you need me to do?"

I realize now that her touch is a lot heavier to her than it is to me. If I refuse her, she'll let President Snow know, and I cringe when I think of the torture method he has in store for me. I don't need to persuade her, but I have to make her happy. Especially when Annie's fragile life is directly in President Snow's hands now.

I clear my throat. "Why don't you meet me here after the death toll, and I'll take you up on another offer I have?"

Her eyes sparkle, and she smiles. "But of course, ."

I nod and set eyes on the woman I'm really looking for. Helena Black, the woman with the treatment. Across the room, she and I make eye contact at once, and she smiles. I grin back and excuse myself from Lucinda. I walk toward Helena, or who I assume is her. Her appearance is not what I expected. She is an older woman, probably around Mags's age. Cotton-candy colored hair stand in a puff on top of her golden tinted skin. Other than those two components, she looks normal. A black suit compliments her hazel eyes well.

As I near her, she starts speaking right away. "I'd never thought I'd meet the famous Finnick Odair."

Her tone stuns me. No seductive honey glazes her words like the other women. No hinting sounds escape her lips. She sounds like she wholeheartedly respects me, and is in actual awe of my name. My heart warms at the thought of somebody other than Annie or Mags thinking of me as a person, not an object.

I smile bigger than I ever have. "It's a pleasure to meet you, mam."

She waves a dismissive hand. "Mam is for my mother, boy. Just call me by my first name." I nod and she continues immediately, "Now let's get straight to business, shall we?"

I nod again. "Annie is in desperate need of your treatment."

Her eyes become sad as she speaks. "I saw the attack."

"So you know her predicament?"

"Of course, yes. Let me tell you, I have never seen those mutts be so aggressive before. Nor have I ever seen one of them attack when it didn't feel threatened. Annie did nothing to threaten it."

_That's because President Snow trained him on her to torture me. _

I shrug. "At least she faced it."

"Oh my goodness, and what a brave move it was."

"She_ is_ brave. I probably wouldn't have done half the things she did."

"Well then she deserves to be put out of agony, doesn't she? She deserves treatment."

My heart leaps at her words. I could save Annie. "She does," I croak out.

"I have as much supply of the injection as you need, Finnick." She smiles, making the wrinkles around her eyes deepen.

I'm shocked at the ease of this accomplishment. She acts as if it was the natural thing to do, help me without any benefit of her own.

She sees my expression and laughs. "I'm not going to ask anything of you."

I grin. "Sorry, it's just that most people do."

"I know, and that's exactly why I do not ask," she looks around the room and continues. "There is more to you than what meets the eye, Finnick. I don't know why nobody else seems to realize that."

I stare at her in shock. Did she just say that? Did those words actually come out of her mouth? No one has ever said such a thing to me. It's as if she sees right through everything. I swear I just met her, but it feels like she knows me. It's like she's known me for years.

I stand in more stunned silence and she continues. "I'll have the treatment ready at transportation in five minutes. Directions on injection come with the syringe, so she'll know what to do with it. If she does happen to get bit again, tell me and I'll send another dose."

I nod and whisper, "Thank you."

She sticks her hand out as she stands. "It's a pleasure working with you, Finnick. I'm betting on Annie, as I am sure you are too. She's a fighter."

I take her aged, fragile hand and shake up and down once, firmly. I say what I have always said to sponsors: "I know this will benefit you as much as it will benefit us."

She nods. "Of course it will."

And with that, she gives me one last smile and she's gone. Just like that. Her words have shaken me, warmed me, and left me shocked in their path. No one has treated me with such respect in a while.

If Panem is filled with these types of people, than I am willing to fight for them. If people like her still walk around and share their positivity with the world, than I have two reasons to fight. Reason one: Annie and I's freedom. Reason two: the good and kind people still left that deserve their freedom as well.

I suppose I should reconsider this whole "Rebellion" thing, huh?

* * *

N/A: Hello! Just wanted to remind you that I will be updating consistently from now on every Thursday by 10:15 p.m. I'm thinking of changing it to Friday though so I could call it Finnick and Annie Friday :) That has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Let me know what you thought of this chapter please! I need your feedback!

P.S- I'm going out of town next week, so I might update the next chapter a little later than usual. My grandparent's don't have wi-fi! (I think I might die.)

Love you all for forever!

FinnickandAnnieForever :)


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11- Revived**

Annie's P.O.V

_Ouch_. _ Ow!_ Is death supposed to hurt? I liked death better when I was paralyzed and suspended in darkness, the numbness of my limbs soothing me. This part was not included in the description. It's as if boiling water was put through my veins, burning me to the core. It all started in my neck, then immediately ran through to the tips of my fingers and toes. I thought death was supposed to be painless once you passed, but I feel everything right now. This could only mean one thing.

_I'm still alive._

But that's impossible! That gorilla thing bit me, and I bled so much. Wasn't I in the arena? Medical attention ceases as soon as you get in those launch tubes. The boiling sensation starts to subside and suddenly my nerves wake up. I feel grass under my hands, the familiar flatness of dirt that I lay on, and the gentle breeze that rustles the loose hairs on my head. I can smell the combination of copper blood and wood around me. I must be alive. I am still in the Game. My heart sinks and flutters at the same time; I can still win and see Finnick again, but I awake to this torture?

I assess the damage in my body without opening my eyes. I don't want to see the arena yet. As the painful feeling completely erases, I start to move different parts of my body. My fingers and toes seem intact and movable, my core seems doable. My shoulder, ankle, and a couple of ribs, on the other hand, start to throb in pain.

_ Open your eyes, girl. You're still playing_, the silky voice thrums in my head.

I groan as soon as I hear it. I thought that thing was gone. I thought that maybe the shock of almost dying would make it disappear. I guess I was wrong.

"Annie? Annie, are you awake?" Demere's voice comes at a distance, to my left. He sounds desperate, as if he's been waiting for me to respond to my name for a while.

For some reason, I don't have the strength to open my eyes, so I bob my head up and down once, slightly. That small movement sets a fire of pain coursing through my neck immediately, and I wince.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Oh thank goodness. I thought you were gone there for a second. You got a sponsor gift, a needle full of scary looking stuff, and I read the directions as closely as I could. I thought I might've messed up. I'm not good at this sort of thing."

I still don't open my eyes, but whisper weakly, "It burns."

He gasps. "Oh God, oh God. Maybe I hit a vein or something. Oh God, is it supposed to burn?" I hear the rustle of paper, and assume he's checking the directions. After some time, he sighs. "Okay, it says it's supposed to make your joints sore and your nerve endings sensitive for a while. But it should wear off sooner when you start to move and stuff. Can you open your eyes, Annie?"

His voice sounds so sincere, that I do. I thought the sun would blind me, but instead, a roof of some sort blocks its rays. _Huh,_ I think._ Demere made a shelter_.

_That's more than you've done for him_, the voice says.

Suddenly, I feel guilty. I do owe him now. He brought me back from the dead. I slowly, and painfully, turn my neck left and right, taking in my surroundings. It's a nice shelter, really. Standard, but it looks trustworthy. The roof is supported by two oak tree trunks on either end, making an entrance. On the other side, to the right of me, is closed off. The roof slants down to the ground and is nailed into the damp dirt. A thick layer of foliage is layered on top of what looks like a net.

I manage a couple of words, the dryness of my mouth making it hard to form the sounds. "This looks great, Demere."

He looks around in pride and grins. "It's not a lot, but it protects us from all the rain at least. I had to do something to distract me while the medicine was sinking in."

"How long did it take? How long was I out?"

"The longest forty eight hours of my life. A solid two days you were out cold," Demere says as he takes a quick glance outside. "Nobody's been bothering us, it's been pretty quiet."

The sand paper texture of my tongue is hard to manage. "Water?"

His eyes widen and he reaches for a bottle. "Oh, yeah! We got plenty! Ever since that storm, we've been overflowing with water."

I take two large gulps, and breathe in slowly through my nose.

He continues. "Two people are gone now. I don't even think the careers did it. Between the monsoon and that thing that attacked you, the careers don't really need to kill anybody I guess."

"The mutt definitely killed one: a little girl."

He nods slowly. "She was in the sky the night I found you." He looks back at me then, and knits his eyebrows together. "Annie, what happened?"

I sigh and slowly but surely retell the story of the beast. Well, as much of the story as I can. I don't include the part that I was worried about him. And I don't give much detail on the state of the redheaded girl. After a couple of words, the dryness in my mouth resurfaces, and I have to take a break to swallow some more water. He waits patiently, never showing any emotion.

When I'm done, Demere shakes his head. "I thought I heard something peculiar. I thought it was the storm or something. I never thought that it was something that could have hurt you. So, I found something to cover me up, and I waited until the end of the storm to look for you." He stops and brushes a strand of hair from my face. I tense up at his touch, and he pulls his hand away quickly. "I thought you were safer than I was."

I shrug as slightly as I can, sending a bolt of pain from my shoulder where the beast bit me. "It's alright Demere. You would have been in the same state I am, and then who would take care of the other?"

He grins slowly, and nods. "I guess you're right."

"I always am," I say with a smile.

* * *

A couple hours later, I come to the conclusion that Demere really wants to heal me back to perfect health. He feeds me a little rice topped on the crackers from my pack. The combination is actually pretty settling. It calms my raging stomach, and for some reason, also numbs the pain. It also seems that my ribs are just bruised. I can move my core, but only controlled movement. My shoulder is useless; I don't even try to have any contact with it whatsoever. My ankle is swollen and purple, though I have managed to put weight on it. Whatever Demere shot in my system seems to be working, but slowly.

I feel guiltier and guiltier every time he does something for me, because it's just another thing I need to pay him back on. He doesn't seem to mind, almost as if it's in his nature to take care of me. I promise him that I'll be able to do more things tomorrow - that my wounds should heal enough- but he dismisses my excuse and says that "he's glad to do it."

Does he even remember that this is a game? Does he not know that only one will win?

I don't bring that up, though. I'm grateful for everything he's done. I'm still worried about the predicament the Games are in. There hasn't been much activity for days. I bet the beast attack and the storm was the most action the audience has gotten. Unless the Careers are doing something that distracts the viewers enough, we have something coming to spice things up. I can tell Demere thinks the same. He keeps on glancing out of our shelter to make sure no one's coming. It's a little annoying, but we are better safe than sorry, I suppose.

Even now, as I sit up against my backpack eating one last rice cracker, he glances outwards. Satisfied with the emptiness of our surroundings, he comes back in and eats a little.

"Have you taken in the arena yet?" I ask when the silence becomes uncomfortable.

He shrugs. "A little. You know that weird wall over there?" He points outward, I nod, and he continues. "I think it's a dam."

My eyes widen in shock, "A dam?"

"I know, it sounds crazy, but I swear it looks like one. It must be holding back whatever water is in this place."

"Apart from the rain," I add.

"Yeah, that too. Somebody is bound to break it open once the lack of water gets to their brain."

"Nobody else thinks of the storms as water."

He smiles. "Or they do, but they don't have Annie's fancy water traps."

I smile too. The throbbing sensation in my head brings me to silence for a while. Finally, I speak again.

"Have you seen anybody for the days I was out?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. It's been pretty quiet," he opens his pack and continues. "I have a feeling this is just a big build up for something ahead. You know, to keep the audience watching and waiting."

I nod. "We have to be prepared for whatever that might be."

He shrugs. "I guess so." He looks at me then, and his eyes widen, "Oh my gosh! You look so much better!"

I knit my eyebrows together. "I do?"

"Yeah! You have all of your color back and I think your shoulder finally stopped bleeding. How do you feel?"

I take a minute, breathing in and out, and notice that the soreness in my joints has ceased to exist along with the throbbing sensation in my ankle. "I do feel better, now that you mention it."

Demere smiles, pokes his head out of our shelter and looks towards the sky. He whispers, "Thank you sponsors!"

I laugh a little. Why is he so happy? Shouldn't he have hoped that I would be in pain longer, my weaknesses growing by the minute? He must know that only one could win. If he simply refused to inject whatever medicine was in that syringe, I wouldn't blame him. This is a game. Healing me back to health is a foolish decision that won't get him any sponsor gifts of his own.

He gets his head back inside and rests his upper body against the tree trunk that supports the roof. He looks at me once, and slowly closes his eyes- completely at peace.

The curiosity pokes at me, and I am forced to ask one question. "Why did you do it?"

He slits his eyes open again, and raises an eyebrow. "Do what, exactly?"

"Oh you know, bring me back from the dead and all."

He sighs and leans forward. His nose is inches from mine, and I can hear him breathing. I would move, but the pain everywhere else paralyzes me into staying. Finnick is watching.

"I couldn't let you die, especially when my opportunity to save you was so obvious."

I am taken back by his answer. It sounds like something Finnick would say. That just makes my heart ache for him even more. These two boys are so similar. It's like they are one…working together.

Working together.

It jumps out from my mind, those two words. Finnick would do anything to save me, but to ask another boy to do the same, and trust him on his word? That's a long shot, unless Demere values my life more than his own. But what on Earth would make him do that? My heart stops as the pieces come together. The only thing that would put my well-being above Demere's is the same thing that puts Finnick's well-being above mine.

Demere is in love with me.

And just like that, the waves crash over the horizon. The stable ground wobbles from beneath my weakened body. Demere loves me, or is close to it. That is the only excuse, is it not? Finnick and him are _working together_. They are added up for only one solution, to bring me home. Finnick fights out there, and Demere fights in here.

My head swirls, and I close my eyes, shutting out the world. This is unfair. Demere needs to fight for his own life. I can fight for my own.

_No you can't. You were dead for two days, and would have remained dead if it weren't for those two. Play it up, use Demere, _the voice in my head says lightly.

_I am not using Demere. He has done his duty, and I will not need him again. I'm not letting him fall for me any time soon,_ my own voice responds.

_Foolish girl, you are._

I breathe in evenly, in and out. A blanket of guilt has permanently found its way on top of me, suffocating my breaths. I will not let Demere die for me. I cannot let Demere die for me. Every ounce of humanity I still hold is riding on that. If I let him fall for me to stand, I am no less of a monster than President Snow himself. My sanity will shatter if that happens.

I open my eyes to find Demere back against his tree, eyes closed once more. I wait until his breathing is even, for me to shed a tear. He is at peace while a war is raging inside of me. I need to find my own serenity to think straight. My thoughts go to Finnick at once. His arms wrapped around me, like a net of safety. I close my eyes, and I am in them. His forehead rests atop my own. A gentle hand plays with my hair, while the other traps me against him. I trace my own fingers against his back, and let them glide over the hills of muscles that he has obtained over years of fishing. If I focus enough, the scent of mud and blood subside to sand and lavender- the smell of Finnick.

Suddenly, my imaginary Finnick's arms grow tighter and tighter around me. They begin to squeeze me to a point where air is unable to fit in my lungs. I look up, and his eyes are red, his skin layered with scales. A snake's tongue darts in and out of his mouth, and fangs protrude from his lips. My breathing has ceased completely. He smiles, and bites me exactly where the beast did.

I scream and wake up with a jolt. My heart drops as I realize what my nightmare means.

My sanity is already slipping away.

* * *

**N/A- Hey guys! Sorry this took me a while. I was at my grandparents' house and they had like ZERO wi-fi. It was painful. Anyways, thank you to all that reviewed! I'm glad you all have enjoyed the story so far. Don't forget to let me know what you thought of this chapter too! **

**See you next Thursday...**

**FinnickandAnnieForever**


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